From The Beginning
by calla lilly rose
Summary: A car accident took the lives of their parents. Now they had to learn to live on their own. Friendships strengthen, hardships endured.
1. What A Difference

A/N I don't own The Outsiders. All rights belong to SE Hinton.

This is my second run with this story. I took down the other, as there were several aspects I couldn't get right. I feel this is a better effort. Some parts of my previous version have been included, others deleted and still others warped. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Calla

**From The Beginning**

**What A Difference**

**Chapter 1**

**XXX**

"_Darry, I'm going to take your mother out on the twenty-seventh. I know it's short notice, but could you watch your brothers for us?"_

That one sentence forever changed my life. Right then, I thought it had only screwed my plans for the weekend. If I had known what was going to happen, I would have fought harder to convince my folks not to go out. Demanded it even. Broken windows or something... whatever it took for them not to leave the house. But I didn't know what would happen. The thought of something tragic never even crossed my mind. It was just my folks wanting to take a rare evening out, alone, without the badgerings of teenage boys along for the ride. Why would I deny them an evening out? What basis would I have? Moreover, how could I say no to my father after all he'd done for me? Still, not knowing the future... and with thoughts of Cindy screaming through my veins, I tried.

"_Aren't they getting a little old for a sitter, Dad? They ain't little kids ... Soda's sixteen and Ponyboy's thirteen..." _The stern look Dad shot me told me enough. I sighed, knowing Cindy would have to wait_. "Sure, no problem. You and Mom go have fun."_

"_Thanks, son." _

That was two days ago, after what few presents we'd been given had been opened and tinkered with. Now I sat in the living room, my youngest brother sprawled out on the couch while me, Soda, Steve and Two-Bit played another round of cards. I kept shooting nervous glances at the front windows, wondering what was keeping my parents.

"A watched pot ain't gonna boil, Darry. What's the rush, you already bailed on your girl." Steve drawled. Soda reached over and popped him for me.

"Ain't like it was his doing. Pop asked him to."

"I don't get it. You ain't in diapers, why do you need Superman to watch you?" It was Two-Bit's turn at it now.

I reached over and whacked Two-Bit half-heartedly. "Cause Dad knew if I didn't, hormones here would be over at Sandy's, leaving Ponyboy alone."

"Got _that_ right." Soda muttered. "And anyway, who cares if Pony's left alone? He ain't in diapers neither and knows not to burn the place down. Heck, give him a book and he won't move no how."

Soda looked over at a sleeping Ponyboy and I did too, his limp hand having already lost his place as the book teetered off the edge of the couch. I gave the clock another quick glance. It was nearly midnight, never had my parents stayed out this late. Dad was pretty regular about being home before ten as Mom still treated Ponyboy like he was a little kid, not the teenager he was. I knew Pony has enough sense not to burn the place down, lock himself out or let strangers in. And Soda was right, give him a book and he'd never move.

"I wonder if they had a breakdown or something. Maybe a flat?" I asked out loud.

"We could go looking..." Soda said, a sideways glance at Steve revealing more of his alternative plans if he could just get out of my reach.

"No dice." I folded my hand, tossing my cards into the pile and getting up. "Ponyboy, come on, kiddo. Bedtime." I went over and tried to shake him, his only response being to curl up into a ball on the couch. Muffled laughter came from the table where the guys played on.

"Pony!" I called a little more sternly. It was no use, he was out. I picked him up, grateful he was skinny. "Get his door, someone." Two-Bit opened it for me and I laid him down on his bed, tossing his blanket over him and headed out, shutting it behind me. Other voices back at the front door made me look up. Soda was there, talking to someone.

"Can I help you?" I asked the cop standing there. He looked at me, his small notebook in his hand as he checked the black numbers over our doorway. The lighting was poor – we needed a brighter bulb.

"Is this Darrel Curtis's house?"

"Yes sir, he's my father. What can I do for you?"

"You are..." he checked his notebook again, unsure of the answer. I pulled Soda backwards and out of the way.

"I'm Darrel Curtis Junior. My father's not home right now. Is there something I can do for you?"

He looked up at me, an expression I couldn't fathom. "I'm very sorry to bring you this news, sir. There's been an accident, your parents were taken to Tulsa Medical Center. Can you come to the hospital?"

An accident? But Dad's a great driver. And they're in the hospital? My throat was dry, making my voice raspy. "Sure, let me get my coat."

"I'm going with you." Soda blurted out, already shoving his feet in his shoes.

"No. Stay with Ponyboy," I insisted. The three of us wandering around Tulsa in the middle of the night wasn't a great idea.

"Darry!" Soda yelped in protest, but I gave him a look and he settled down. Steve had a hand on his shoulder and Two-Bit for once looked serious.

"Call us if we can do anything." Two-Bit said. I nodded and followed the cop down the sidewalk.

X

"I'm sorry, son. They were already gone before they got here. At least they didn't feel any pain."

A man in a white coat spoke to me, but his words were hollow. I barely remembered them. Off to the side of the room stood another cop, different from the one who'd come to my door. He filled out paperwork, asking only if I was over eighteen and would my brothers stay with me tonight. I'd mumbled out a "yes", not able to move my eyes from the carnage before me. On two gurneys, side by side, were my parents. The nurses had cleaned them up but it still wasn't pretty. I was just too shocked, too stunned to move. The collision had been terrific, killing them both almost immediately. White sheets covered them up to their chins, their injuries – except for some bruising around Mom's eyes - remained hidden and out of sight.

"Where are their things?" I asked in a voice so husky, I didn't recognize it. A nurse came over, two brown paper bags and a clipboard in her hand. She spoke, but what she said I didn't hear. Nothing made it through to my brain. I looked down, her pen was resting next to an X on the paper. I signed it, she handed me the bags and walked away.

Somehow, I made it to my truck, the paper bags now in my possession. I was on autopilot, starting my truck and driving away from the hospital. How long it took me to get home, I didn't know, but when I looked up, I was in front of our house again. The light was still on inside. Oh God. OhGodOhGodOhGod!

Two-Bit and Steve joined Soda on either side of him when I made it inside the house. Soda made a step for me, but Steve held him back.

"Well?" Soda asked.

I shook my head. "They're gone, Sodapop." I whispered.

"What?" he asked, disbelief, anger and confusion suddenly ravaging his features. "No! They went to _dinner, _Darry! They_ just_ went to _dinner!_ _NO_!"

He pulled out of their grip and I grabbed him, holding him as he fought against me. I felt sobs choking him, more than what he let out. I stroked his hair, not being much of a comfort to him. Steve stepped closer but stared at the floor, refusing to make eye contact; his hand held firm on Soda's shoulder as he convulsed with nearly silent sobs. I noticed Two-Bit's gaze, he was looking down the darkened hallway. I understood, there was still another brother to destroy.

"What happened, Dar?" Two-Bit asked carefully.

What _had_ happened? I struggled to remember what the doctor had said. "Train hit the car. They died instantly." Or at least I hoped so. The doc had said if they had survived, it would only have been for a few seconds. They bled to death internally.

"Jesus Christ!" Steve muttered.

Soda's weight was getting heavier, his legs giving out. I backed him up to the couch, easing him down onto it, Steve sitting down with him. Soda leaned forward, his reddened eyes looking around.

"Now what?" he asked. I had no idea.

"I'll go check on Ponyboy." I said softly. The guys stayed silent while I crept to his room, carefully opening his door. He was still asleep, curled up in a contented ball. Part of me told him to wake him and tell him, part of me said not to. I went with that part and shut the door again. I'd let him have one last night of normal. Nothing would ever be the same again.

XXX

The sun was starting to peak out from behind various rooftops in the neighborhood, shining rays glinting off icicles hanging off the overhang. I stirred my coffee in endless circles, certain it had cooled off enough to drink by now but I didn't really want it. The motion kept me focused, occupied my mind, gave me something to do.

I hadn't slept. Soda, also, was still in his clothes from yesterday. I'd tried to make him go to bed hours ago but he'd refused, planting himself on the couch and not moving. The guys had done the same, staying here for reasons each kept to themselves. Throughout the night, we stared at pictures on the walls, cracks in the ceiling... even each other; but no one spoke. There simply were no words. Now I'd have to _find_ words. Bedsprings creaked in the distance behind a closed door. Ponyboy had woken up at last.

"Hey," he mumbled, passing me on his way to the kitchen. He looked so young, somehow even younger than he did yesterday. His bronzed hair tufted out in every direction, waiting to be washed and combed then greased up some. "Mom sleeping in or something?" He asked, getting down first a bowl then the cereal. Mom usually made our breakfast, wanting us to eat something hot and healthy. None of us minded cereal, but that was usually held off until weekends. As he poured the milk, he noticed the silence. "Dad head out to work already? I thought he was taking the day off?"

I cleared my throat and got up, hesitantly approaching his side. "Ponyboy, I sort of have something to tell you. Come here a minute."

He looked at me and walked over, wiping the milk off his chin with the back of his hand.

"Mom and Dad had an accident last night. They never made it home. They... uh, they ... won't be ... coming home. I'm sorry, Ponyboy..." Damn, this was so hard. I swallowed, forcing myself to stay steady. His green eyes looked at mine, searching, not wanting to believe me. "...they didn't make it. They're gone."

His face yielded a blank, unwilling- to- accept it look. He slowly shook his head and sat the bowl down hard, then turned and bolted for their room. Soda blazed past me, the rest of the guys jumping up as if to follow, then stopped suddenly as Sodapop reached him just outside their closed door. Pony jerked their door open then stood in the doorway, calling out into the still room.

"Mom? Dad? … _Mom!_" I heard the hitch in his voice, knowing he knew he was calling out to those who would never answer. "Momma? Dad?" Sodapop came up behind him, wrapping his arms around him. "No... Please, Soda... no!"

The guys stood against the far end of the hallway, each silently listening in. Sopapop held Ponyboy to his chest as tears fell from both of their eyes. Soda murmured hollow words of comfort to him as his long fingers raked the back of Pony's head. I held onto Soda's shoulder, awed as he became the comfortor to his younger brother as I had last night.

I stood by them, not knowing what to do for either of them. Ponyboy held Soda so tight, both of them bawling. Soda trying to hold it in, Pony not having the power to do so.

"Come on, lets go sit down." I said softly, tugging on Pony's pajama sleeve. He turned and looked at me then ducked his red eyes, nodding. Somehow we managed to get back to the living room, Pony tucked at Soda's side on the couch, Steve taking the third spot while I sat on the edge of the recliner.

"What happened?" Pony asked finally.

I struggled hard against a tide of my own grief. "A train hit Dad's car last night. They... they never felt it." I hoped what I was saying was true. My folks didn't deserve to suffer, not even for a second.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he cried, wiping tears away only to be replaced by others. Soda held him tighter but said nothing.

"You were asleep, Pone. I didn't see the need in waking you up. It wouldn't have changed anything." I tried to reason with him, but it only seemed to upset him worse. He got up, breaking free of Soda's hold and headed past me, to the bathroom. I went back to my abandoned coffee, pouring it down the drain. When the phone rang a second later, it startled me, causing me to drop my cup into the sink, breaking it into several pieces.

"Hello?"

The guys watched me closely. I listened to the man on the other end, checked my watch and nodded. "I'll be there. Thanks."

I rubbed my chin, feeling the sandpaper along my jaw. This wouldn't do. The bathroom was vacant again, Pony having returned to the couch. "I have to go out for a while. Can someone hang here till I get back?"

"Where? Darry, where ya going?" Soda asked, looking up.

"Funeral home." I said softly. Soda's expression was stark, Pony's eyes simply filled with tears again.

"Sure, no problem." Steve said, answering my question.

I gave the guys another glance and headed off to take a shower. The funeral home downtown had my parents bodies... I had to go make arrangements. Neither of them were in any shape for this, both of them being too young. Hell, until now, I didn't consider myself old enough either, but I was the only one over eighteen. As if one year made some magical difference.

One year. One day. What a difference.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	2. Screaming would come later

**From The Beginning **

Chapter 2

**Screaming would come later.**

XXX

The funeral home had honey oak colored paneling on the walls, with peaceful paintings dotting them here and there. Flowers sat in vases along tables in the foyer and in the business office. Calm music played softly in the background. None of it worked to cheer me up.

"My father's life insurance policy should be able to cover something decent." I handed Mr. Nordine, the funeral director, the policy which I had gotten out of the lock box from my parent's closet this morning. While I was there, I pulled out Mom's favorite dress and one of Dad's nicer suits, sliding them into a paper sack to deliver here for them.

In a cruel twist of irony, Dad had told me about his policy and their will, even showed them to me in the box a few months ago when he was looking for something else he'd had to do. At the time, I brushed it off. Now I was glad I had at least a hint of where to start.

Mr. Nordine looked over the papers, nodded, wrote something down and handed the policy back to me. "Depending on what you want, it can cover plenty. Lets start with place of internment. Did you have a place in mind?"

There wasn't exactly a whole lot of choice in that. West Lawn was on our side of town, older and more established with shade trees and traditional headstones. Eternity Hills, on the other hand, was on the West side of town. Very upscale; nicer, with manicured grass and landscaping - but no headstones. It was one of those new types of cemeteries - a memorial garden type of place that wanted everything flush with the ground. It wasn't my style, nor did I think my brothers would go for it.

"West Lawn." I answered. He nodded and picked up the phone. After a pause, he spoke with someone, then put the phone to his shoulder to speak to me.

"They have two places with joined plots available. One in section six facing the roadside, the other in section seventeen, towards the back of the cemetery near a willow tree. Do you have a preference?"

"Willow tree." Mom loved anything that bloomed and Dad liked the shade.

Mr. Nordine nodded, jotted something down about that, gave my answer to the person on the phone and hung up.

"They'll get that taken care of. Now, caskets..."

X

It had been a long few hours, picking out and arranging everything. Funny how so much attention is given to things that no one will see after someone gets buried. I was completely drained as I drove back home. I would have to find reserves, there were more problems waiting for me there.

I pulled up to find an unfamiliar white van sitting in my driveway. As I went inside, Steve and Two-Bit were standing in front of a woman and a man; Sodapop, Pony and Johnny behind them. Pony looked scared while behind Soda's stoic glare, I could see fear also hiding in his features.

"What's going on?" I demanded. The strangers turned to me.

"I'm Mrs. Dabner from the Tulsa Child Welfare Office. This is my colleague, Mr. Henshaw. It's come to our attention that there are unattended to minors here whose parents have recently passed away..."

"They_ ain't_ been unattended to ...." Steve started, but I cut him off.

"My brothers might be minors but I'm not. I'm nineteen, a legal adult. They've been in my custody since our parents were killed. Yesterday. Last night." If I had been less drained of emotion, I probably would have been angry that the State was here this soon. The fury would hit later.

The woman looked over her paperwork, a confused expression in her eyes. "And you are.....?"

"Darrel Curtis Junior."

"There were no adults here when we arrived, Mr. Curtis," she was quick to point out.

"They aren't kids," I started.

"And they _weren't_ alone. I'm nineteen,_ also_ a legal adult. I've been here the whole time." Two-Bit threw at her, saving my ass.

She looked back at me. "Do you live here?"

"Yes."

"And you're willing to take responsibility for them until the hearing?"

"_What_ hearing?" Soda barked.

I wasn't sure if she noticed Steve's hand come out a bit from his side, as if to hold Soda back should he try to step out from behind him.

"The hearing to decide custody. The district judge will decide permanent custody of you and your minor brother, Ponyboy." She answered him, checking her notes again.

"When's the hearing?" I asked. Again, her eyes searched the documents in her hand.

"The third of January."

"Yes, of course I am." I said, answering her question. I wasn't sure what was going down, but this broad and her buddy weren't taking my brothers out of this house without a fight. Judging by the way the guys were shielding Pony and Soda, they were of the same opinion.

"Sign here, please." She handed me a clipboard with legal mumbo jumbo on it, I glanced at it then signed the form. She handed me a copy, picked up her briefcase and left.

After they pulled away, everyone seemed to relax a bit.

"What was_ that_ all about?" I asked, looking around.

"She pulled up a few minutes ago, saying me and Pone were now wards of the state and had to go with her." Soda explained. I looked over at Ponyboy, who shook ever so slightly.

"Relax, buddy. Ain't no one taking you out of here." Two-Bit said to him while pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Pony simply nodded.

"I told her we wasn't no wards, that you had gone out for a while but would be back. Then her buddy came in...."

"... and we sort of made it clear that if she wanted to take anyone, it would be after dealing with us first." Steve drolled, using Soda's shoulder to lean his elbow on. Soda grinned, but I could see he was still rattled.

Pony and Johnny headed out to the back stoop while I sat down a minute, trying to clear my own head. "Take the smokes outside." I said tiredly. Two-Bit headed out with Ponyboy and Johnny, leaving me with Steve and Soda.

"So how'd it go?" Soda asked carefully.

I felt older than I ever had. "Okay, I guess. The arrangements are done. Gave them their clothes, but really, I wasn't sure of the point of that. It's going to be a closed casket service." Soda paled, looking at me with a pained expression. I sighed, knowing this was tough on him too. "I uh, I scheduled it on the first. Sorry, buddy, but … really... it's what's best. Trust me." His hands shook some and Steve lit up a smoke of his own.

"C'mon, Sodapop, lets go outside for a few. Be back in a while, Darry."

I watched as Steve handed him the lit stick as they walked down the block. Soda was real tough but he wasn't invincible. I was pretty sure he'd been holding it in for Pony's sake. Out the back door, I could see Pony sitting hunched over his knees, a cigarette of his own dangling between his fingers. Johnny sat with him, neither of them saying a word while Two-Bit stood beside them against the railing; watching, protecting.

I glanced at the paper in my hands, a court summons. I'd need a lawyer. Dad's will dictated that I was to be guardian if something happened to my folks, but wasn't sure if that would be enough. I got the will out of my jacket, found the name of the attorney who prepared it and gave him a call.

"Mr. Carter?" I asked as the phone picked up. I told him what had happened, he expressed his condolences and invited me to his office in the morning to discuss everything. I felt a little better as I hung up the phone. Worn out still, but better. He sounded like he sincerely wanted to help. That was good, cause I was sure I was going to need it.

XXX

"Is there anything I can do, Darrel?" Mrs. Mathews asked for the third time.

"No, thank you. The lasagna smells great, it was nice of you to do this. Really. Thanks." I didn't know what to say. Two-Bit's mother got wind of what had happened and had stopped by to check on us, finding us emotionally devastated and barely functioning.

Pony was hunched down on the couch, staring into the fireplace while Sodapop sat against the wall on the floor. Neither had said much, and I was pretty sure neither had eaten. Pony looked like he hadn't showered at all, his hair just as messed up as it was this morning. Soda may have splashed water on his face, but a sandpapery beard dotted his chin. It would be pointless to ask them to eat. I doubt they'd even get up if I called them to the table. The rest of the gang was here, their presence felt but not hovering.

"Call me or send Two-Bit over if you need anything. Anything at all." She insisted with a slight hug, then left.

"I guess I'd better go home." Johnny softly jabbed Pony in the upper arm while getting up.

"If you need to stay here...." Pony started, but looked down before finishing.

"Come back if you need somewhere to stay tonight, Johnny." I murmured. Johnny nodded and headed out, flipping the collar of his denim jacket up against the cold.

Steve came out of the kitchen, scraping the last of whatever he was eating off the plate and into his mouth. The sound grated my nerves but I said nothing.

"You guys want company or want to be alone? Just say the word." he asked, swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

"We'll be fine. Thanks, Steve." Soda quietly said from his corner.

"You know where to find me if you need me. Night guys." He left his plate on the table and followed Johnny out.

XXX

"Morning, Darrel. I'm so sorry for your loss. Lets see what I can do."

Mr. Carter seemed to be a good man. He seemed in his thirties - still had the energy of a young guy but starting to show the lines of age. I sat down and looked around his office, a small room with shelf after shelf of legal books against one wall. I wondered if anyone ever really read those books or were they just a status symbol all lawyers had.

"I remember your father. He spoke of you and your brothers with lots of devotion. Your mother too. This was done up nearly a year ago, I think when you turned eighteen, right?"

I nodded. He sat at his desk, reading the documents while I continued my inventory of his room. It wasn't much.

"Well, it's all here in black and white. You can assume custody or, if you're not willing, you can let the State appoint a guardian for them, placing them in foster care. I'm going to be honest with you - I don't think either of your brothers would be adopted. People adopt babies, not teenagers. And, there's no guarantee they would even be kept together. They would, however, have food, clothes and shelter, have medical care and have access to an education until they were eighteen. It's up to you." He paused a moment while I tried to think of what to say. There had already been too many decisions to make, too much for me to remember. How did all this fall on me? "Aren't you in college?" He asked softly, studying me almost. "Your father had mentioned it...."

"Part time at the University. I'm working also for a construction company."

Mr. Carter looked down at his desk, his shoulders slumped some. "Let me give it to you straight. If you take custody, you will probably have to give up school for now. I'm not saying you have to - believe me, I understand how important it is. But, you'd be responsible for every bill that came in the house; the mortgage, clothes on their backs, food, medical. It's a lot to cover on a part time paycheck. But this is your decision. You have until the third to decide what you're going to do, but the sooner I have your answer, the sooner I can file whatever paperwork I'll need to with the judge.

I held the will in my hands, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. My boss had already asked me a few times if I wanted to go full time, and each time I'd turned him down, ecstatic to be the first in the family to actually make it to college. My football scholarship wasn't enough to cover full time expenses, so I'd agreed to stay at home and work part time to save up, taking only one class at a time until I could afford to go full time. Now this! I saw my dreams slipping away, but really, there wasn't a choice. Dad knew what he was doing. I had to trust that.

"No." I said huskily. "I'm not sending them away. File the papers. I'll take custody."

XXX

"Does this look right?" Ponyboy asked me. I turned to see what he was talking about. He stood in the doorway, trying to tie his necktie - but it looked more like a hangman's noose.

"Nup, better let me help you. C'mere."

He stood in front of me, both of us facing the mirror as I first undid the knot he'd made then flipped and tucked, then flipped and tucked the tie the right way. "There, now that's better." I said as I studied his reflection. At least he'd stopped crying, but his eyes were still red and his cheeks puffy. I gave his shoulders a slight squeeze as he nodded first, then walked out.

Soda was sitting on the couch, picking at some loose thread sticking out from its worn fabric. My old suit was loose on him, but I didn't have enough to get him and Pony a good suit. As it was, Soda got my old one, I wore the new one Dad had just bought me for my high school graduation last year, while Pony wore a new white shirt and a pair of black slacks with a somewhat matching jacket Two-Bit had come up with. Thankfully, everyone's shoes still fit.

"You guys ready?" I asked. Soda looked up and nodded, Pony getting his coat to wear over his dress up jacket. Soda hesitated with his coat... it was red and blue – bright and cheerful; too much for this somber day. He put it back, buttoning up his suit jacket instead.

"Lets go." I said, pulling on my wool coat, leading them outside.

The guys met us at the funeral home. Everyone was outside, huddling against the cold. I couldn't decide on where to have the service, Mom was catholic and Dad was Protestant. A_ part time_ Protestant, he'd joked, riling up Mom intentionally. So, I had Father Bryce come over from Mom's church and Rev. Monroe come over from Dad's. They'd gotten together with me two days ago to go over what we'd like. I didn't know. Something nice, I'd said. They'd looked at each other and at me, nodded, gave me a pat on my back and said they'd take care of it.

Two-Bit was there with his sister and mother, Johnny not far off. Even if Dallas hadn't been in the cooler for a week, I doubted he'd be here, this was most definitely not his scene. Steve, however, was there with Evie... Evie there for Sandy and Sandy there for Sodapop. My own gal, Cindy, wasn't anywhere around. I guess I was done seeing her.

Tim hovered over by the door, smoking on a cigarette. He'd nodded at me when he caught my eye, I nodded back. There wasn't much else to say, and besides, I was pretty tired of talking for the time being.

I recognized Dad's boss and assumed the woman standing by his side was his wife. It was nice of him to show up, but I hadn't called him. I wondered if I was supposed to? Under the overhang huddled several ladies I recognized as Mom's friends from the church. I think they were in the choir. Mom didn't work, always saying her job was to raise three boys into men, and that was hard enough! She said she was paid with chocolate kisses and sticky hugs, but that was payment a-plenty for her.

Sodapop and Ponyboy stood huddling just outside of the car, neither wanting to walk toward the building. No one would go in before we did, and we couldn't stand out here freezing all day. Not like it would change anything. "Ready?"

"I don't want to go in there." Pony said softly.

"I know, Pone. But it's something we have to do." I told him, shutting the truck door behind him. He looked down, not budging.

"Just stick with me, Ponyboy. You'll be okay. We'll get through this together. Just lean on me. C'mon." Soda nudged Pony with his elbow, starting his feet toward the door. On our way in, I shook Dad's boss's hand, thanking him for coming and nodding my greeting toward the ladies.

Once inside, the small service room was decorated simply, a few flowers placed near the podium and a bouquet for each of the caskets. Mom and Dad's caskets lay at the front of the room, side by side, each closed. I heard a small squeak next to me and looked over, Pony's eyes were dribbling tears. I should have prepared him for this, but honestly, I didn't know how. I took him under one arm while Soda had his other, and somehow, we made it up to the front to sit.

Father Bryce spoke of Mom's graceful love of music which paled only to her love for us, while Rev. Monroe spoke of Dad's hard work and dedication to his family. The choir ladies sang_ Amazing Grace_, one of Mom's favorite songs to play on the piano.

It didn't take long before Sodapop was crying just as hard as Ponyboy. Throughout the service, I kept looking over at the guys - both their faces red, tears saturating their cheeks and small sobs escaping when they couldn't hold it in. It broke my heart, but I stayed as calm as I could. I kept my hands in my pockets, concentrating on the pain my nails gave my palms as I dug them into my skin. Otherwise, I'd have lost it along with the guys, and that wouldn't have helped matters at all.

When it was over, we got back in my truck and headed over to West Lawn, their plots dug up and ready. The earth above bare, I'd yet to pick out a headstone. Money was too tight and time too short. Sodapop had one arm around Ponyboy, holding him tightly as the minister gave his final remarks, Pony's eyes shut with his head leaning on Soda's shoulder. He wasn't even trying to hold it in anymore. Two-Bit put one arm on his other shoulder while Steve stepped a little closer to Soda. Again, Johnny huddled nearby, looking just as lost and forlorn as ever.

The caskets were lowered and I turned the guys back toward the car. Throughout, I managed to hold it in. Inside, I wanted to scream.

Screaming would come later.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	3. Try to remember that

**From The Beginning**

Chapter 3

**Try to remember that.**

XXX

Piercing screams tore into the night. Shrieks of agony ripping the darkness in half. I tumbled out of bed, wondering who was being beaten here in our house. The door next to mine flew open just as I passed it, Sodapop barreling into me as he, too, came out running. Apologies would wait. The distance down our hall had seemingly doubled overnight.

The cries were coming from Ponyboy's room, the one at the other end of the hall. I nearly ripped the door off the hinges opening it while Soda slapped the hallway light on. Inside the room, Pony lay thrashing about on his bed, cries and utterances of "_No_!" and "_Please!_" intermingling with his shrieks.

"Ponyboy!" I called, mildly angry that he'd woken me up over what looked like a bad dream. We were all sleep deprived … this wouldn't help. Part of me knew he couldn't help it, but that part was too tired for reasoning. I gripped the footboard of his bed while Soda dealt with him.

"Pone.... Pony wake up. Come on, wake up...." he spoke gently, his hands stroking his forehead despite the glistening sweat. At his touch, Pony stopped screaming and thrashing about, but he still twitched and jerked a few seconds more.

"He's hot," Soda surmised, untangling him from the blankets that wrapped around him. "Everything's soaked in sweat."

I looked closer, seeing the sweat stains on the pillowcase and noticing his dark chestnut hair was shimmering, slick with perspiration.

"Think he's sick?" I asked.

"Pony, what is it? You okay?" Soda asked, ignoring my question.

"I'm sorry.... for waking.... you up," he panted.

"That's okay." Soda stroked his hair back. "Bad dream?"

Pony nodded, turned over some and buried his head in the sheets around him. His frame shook. He was silently crying again.

"Shhh, Pone. It's okay. It's gonna be okay..... you'll see." Soda rubbed his back and looked over at me. I shook my head, not having any answers for this.

"You sick, Ponyboy?" I asked.

He sniffled, turned back over and sat up, his knees hugging his chest. "No, I ain't... sick. I'll be fine. Sorry."

I stretched, then looked at the clock on his table. Nearly two in the morning.

"Well, lets get these sheets changed so everyone can get back to bed. You both have school in the morning."

Soda gave me a disgruntled look – he hates school and looks for any reason to skip - but I didn't know what else to do. Giving them both another day off wouldn't have accomplished anything, nor would it be good for them. I knew they probably wouldn't retain any knowledge, but it would keep them busy. Keep them on schedule. Plus, I had a lot of running around to do in the morning.

Soda reached into the closet and pulled out a fresh set of sheets while Ponyboy got up and stripped his bed. I found another blanket and in record time, Pony was back under the covers.

"You gonna be okay now, Pone?" Soda asked.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"It's okay. Night." Soda turned off the switch and followed me down the hall, ducking into his room wordlessly. I collapsed into my own bed; tired, worried, and unsure of everything.

XXX

"Bye guys," I watched as Two-Bit took off with Johnny and Ponyboy while Steve and Soda headed out in Steve's car. Closing the door, the house they left behind was a mess. Mom would've had a fit. Newspapers littered the floor, dishes overfilled the sink. At least they were eating again, small amounts – enough to keep a bird alive at least. I cleaned up the house, trying to keep busy before heading out.

Mr. Campbell was there when I pulled up.

"Well hello, Darry. What brings you out on a weekday?" He and James, one of the foremen, were looking over a set of blueprints on the hood of his car.

"You've asked me a few times if I'd consider going full time. I was wondering if that offer was still available."

He looked at me, confused. "I thought you were college bound?"

"Something's come up and I could use the full time position."

He looked at James, who took the hint and walked away. "What is it, Darry?"

"My folks had an accident over the holidays. I've got to leave school for a while until things get better. So if you can use me, I'd like the position."

He chewed on his toothpick, eyes not blinking. "Are they okay?"

"They didn't make it."

The motion of the toothpick in his mouth stopped abruptly. "Darry, I'm... I'm sorry, son. Sure, the position's yours if you want it, but don't you think you need to take some time off? Be with your family and all?"

"I'd just really like to get to work, if I could."

"What about your family? You have some siblings, don't you? How're they handling this?"

"Two brothers. I've got a custody hearing tomorrow, but my lawyer said it shouldn't be a problem."

"Taking custody, huh? Well, tell you what; the full time position usually has a raise to go with it. I'll bump it up some. You're a hard worker, not like you haven't earned it. You just take care of your brothers and come back when everything's settled."

I shook his hand, grateful. "Thanks Mr. Campbell, I appreciate it. I'll be back first thing on the fourth."

And just like that, I had a full time job.

X

"Yes sir?" the woman typing away in dizzying speeds said to me, not looking up.

"I need to drop my class and get a refund, if I can."

"Dropping a class or leaving school?" she asked dryly, but at least looking up.

"Leaving."

Her eyebrows went up a bit as she got out of her chair, pulling some forms from a file and handed them to me on a clipboard. "Fill these out and bring them back. You'll only get a partial refund, the accounting department will cut you a check."

I nodded, taking the clipboard. I hated this but saw no other alternative. I couldn't do school and work full time and be good at both, and I_ had_ to work. Dad's insurance policy wouldn't tide us over for long and he didn't have much in savings, either. And my pay from Mr. Campbell wouldn't equal the income Dad had made after eighteen years spent with the Department of Transportation either. I'd done the numbers several times in my head; I was going to have to get a second job if I was going to have a chance of staying afloat. Even then, it would be iffy.

XXX

"Sandy, please honey, this ain't exactly the right time...."

_Yeah, no kidding._ I walked in to find Soda's girl sitting with him on the couch, so close daylight couldn't squeeze between them. It was obvious his mind wasn't on the same thing hers was. She had that hungry glaze in her eyes, his … weren't.

"Aren't you supposed to be at school?" I looked at the clock, it wasn't yet two.

"I have study hall last period. I usually leave campus for it," she answered.

I gave her my _I don't give a shit _look and clarified. "I meant _you,_ Sodapop. If I remember right, you're supposed to be in history class right now."

"Don't start, Darry. I ain't in the mood for an argument. Whether I'm there or not won't make no difference to my grade."

"It would if you worked harder at it. How are you going to pass if you don't even show up?"

"Soda, I'll see you later." Sandy said, slinking off the couch and putting on her coat. He got up, kissing her before she left.

I had mixed feelings on his girl. On the one hand, she wasn't scholastic but she was smart, passing her classes with nothing lower than a C. And she was prettier than most of the chicks on our side of town. _And _- she seemed good for Soda, usually encouraging him to do better in school. On the_ other_ hand, she also seemed driven by her hormones. More than once I'd come in to find her and Soda playing a game of tonsil hockey while his hands explored her assorted curves and her hands reciprocating the gesture. I'd told him to watch it many times, that either our Dad or hers would rip him apart if they were ever caught.

"You know I ain't gonna pass, so get over it already," he said as he shut the door.

"You'd better pass! You just ain't trying. Cutting won't solve anything."

"Dang it, Darry, I ain't scored anything higher than a D in that class this whole year! And with all this... with Mom and Dad … I can't concentrate anyway. I tried to tell you last night, but you're being pig-headed about it!"

He was mad. His face was red and his eyes blazed. I took a breath, not saying anything for a moment. "Fine, just settle down. I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have pushed you to go back today, but I thought that's what you both needed – to stay on your schedules. And for what it's worth, you _can_ pass. Giving up and cutting class, however, will guarantee that you won't. When did you cut out?"

His eyes still burned with anger, but some of the fire had gone out. "Noon. Left for lunch and never went back."

"Sooo-daaaa!" I groaned, knowing how hard it was for him already. Skipping only heaped on the extra work it would take to catch up, and he was far enough behind to put the chances of not passing into reality. It was January, only five months of school left. Plenty of time if he showed effort, but without Mom here to coax him into trying harder or Dad here to simply insist on it, I wasn't sure how much of an influence I would have with him.

"Let it go, Darry. Please, just... just let it go." He headed outside and off to the shed. Without looking, I already knew he'd be checking the tool boxes, finding something with an engine to tinker with. Maybe the lawnmower that hadn't run in months, or the old vacuum that needed the cord replaced. Ponyboy had his books and Sodapop had his engines. For a while, I had a class. Now I had nothing.

XXX

The seconds on the clock ticked by, my nervous glances at the door not easing my tension. It was after four, Ponyboy should have been home an hour ago. From the kitchen window, I could see fragments of movement in the shed, so I knew Soda was still out there. A beat up Chrysler pulled up, Two-Bit sliding out from behind the wheel ... alone.

"Hey, Darry. You doing okay?" he asked as he came inside.

"I'm good. Seen Ponyboy?"

"He stayed at school during lunch, didn't want to go out. Soda home?"

I gave him the eye. He smirked, knowing I knew.

"Sorry man, but he just didn't want to go back. So where is he?"

"Shed. Did you see Pony after lunch?"

"Uhhh, oh yeah. At PE. In the gym. Basketball."

I nodded, glad to hear Pony was at least trying to stay up with his school work. Two-Bit headed out to the shed. I gave the front window another nervous look before following him out. Pony still wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Hey Soda," I called into the shed. Well, I was right. The tiller lay in pieces all over the floor. Not that I had any worry, he'd get it back together in better shape than it was before, but still … sometimes I wondered what made him tick. "I'm going out for a while. Can you stay here, keep an eye out for Ponyboy. He ain't home yet."

"Sure," he said, picking up a hunk of wires.

I rode around the neighborhood, the normal amount of greasers hanging out despite the cold. Finally I spotted a familiar face.

"Hey Johnny, seen Ponyboy?" I yelled over at him. He'd been tossing the football, catching it. He and Pony hung out together a lot. If anyone knew where Ponyboy was, he would.

He came over to my truck. "Nope. He split after school, said he had something to do and didn't want no company."

Great. Now where would he go. "Which way was he headed?"

Johnny cocked his head a bit, thinking. "West, up Elm Drive, I think."

It only took a second for that to mean something to me. _Crap._ "Thanks, Johnny." I sped away before I could hear his response.

Up Elm Drive, where it intersects with 42nd street, was West Lawn. I parked the truck and headed up the pathway. There, kneeling down in a semi-collapsed heap, was Ponyboy. The graves still fresh, the earth in a small mound. His eyes were bloodshot but it looks like I had missed the crying fest. I knelt down beside him.

"You okay?"

He nodded. "How'd you find me?"

"Ran into someone who saw you headed this way." His hands were dirty, earth caked under his nails. "They wouldn't want you out here, not like this." I shucked off my jacket, wrapping it around him. Even though he was wearing his fall jacket, it wasn't enough against the late afternoon biting winds that crept up.

"It's not fair." He said, shaking some.

"Nope, it ain't. Lots of things in life ain't fair, but we can't change the past. Best just to look forward."

He looked at me, right into my eyes. "I can't." A second later, his hands smoothed out the dirt beneath his palms. "I want them home."

He had no idea how much I wanted the same thing. I'd had nearly twenty years with them, long enough for them to see me start kindergarten all the way up to graduating high school and start college. Pony, however, was still in school, was just starting his teenage years. He still had that idolization of our parents and hadn't really reached that point of thinking independently yet. He still craved their acceptance and assurance. Despite being thirteen, he was still Mom's little boy. He looked so lost, and Soda and I were the only ones left to guide him. What the hell was I getting myself into?

"I was hoping you could help me," I started, not sure what I was doing but winging it just the same. "I haven't picked out a headstone. You're good with art and all, think you can give me some input on what would be nice? Something they would like?"

He looked around, numerous gray rectangular headstones dotted the landscape. Finally he nodded, looking down. "Sure. Not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe."

"Good. I can really use the help." I stood up, noticing the sun setting in the distance. "It's getting late, we'd better head home." I put out a hand and he took it, helping him to his feet. He got his bookbag and together we headed out.

"Um Pony, we have court tomorrow. Custody hearing. I need to know, do you want to stay with me or go live somewhere else?"

"I want to stay here. Right here." He gave a glance over his shoulder back toward the willow tree, but I slung my arm over his shoulder, blocking his view.

"Look forward, Ponyboy. Not back. Try to remember that."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	4. I looked at the food, my own

**From the Beginning**

Chapter 4

**I looked at the food, my own appetite gone as well.**

XXX

Once again, I was dressed up in my suit, Sodapop in his and next to him, Ponyboy. Mr. Carter sat to my right, fingers interlaced and sitting calmly, patiently waiting with papers ready in separate stacks to hand to the judge if asked for. Across from us on the other side of the small aisle sat Mrs. Dabner, her legs crossed and her foot bouncing anxiously in the air beneath the table. All we were waiting for was the judge.

"All rise!" the deputy called suddenly. Everyone got to their feet as a door behind the judges table opened and a middle aged man wearing a black robe came out. Our case number was called out, Mr. Carter and Mrs. Dabner stood again, each acknowledging their presence. Finally, we were underway.

"Sodapop and Ponyboy?" The judge stated, reading the file and looking over at my brothers as if questioning the validity of their names. My parents, such comedians.

"Yes, Your Honor. Birth certificates for both boys confirm their names. I've made copies for Your Honor." Mr. Carter handed the documents to the bailiff who then handed them to the judge.

"State your case, Mrs. Dabner." the judge prompted, settling in his seat.

"The minors Sodapop Patrick Curtis; 16, and Ponyboy Michael Curtis; 13, lost their parents on 27 December. Their only living relative is their remaining sibling, Darrel Shaynne Curtis Jr. who is only 19 years old. We, the Child Protective Services department, do not feel he is financially capable of caring for his siblings and request they be placed in foster care."

The judge looked at her, apparently waiting for more. "That's it?"

Now she looked uncomfortable. "Yes sir."

"On what do you base this?" he asked, the papers dropping in his hand some.

"Mr. Curtis is only part time employed and has only a high school education. It would be financially overwhelming, sir."

"Uh huh. I see. Mr. Carter?"

My attorney stood, looking calm as he began. "Despite the loss of their parents, Darrel Curtis Jr. has already taken steps to care for his brothers. He has already taken a full time position within the construction company he works for, with a substantial raise over his part time pay. His parents had a life insurance policy that covered their funeral expenses, so that should no longer be an issue. He also has enough in his personal savings combined with the liquid assets left in his parent's accounts to cover their needs for an estimated three months. In addition to all this, he will also receive death benefits from the Social Security Administration until the youngest sibling, Ponyboy, reaches age 18.

"Mr. Curtis Sr. also specified in his will that in the event of his death, and, should his wife precede him in death, that his oldest son, Darrel Curtis Jr. should assume responsibility for his siblings as long as he is willing and able to do so and that his brothers are each in agreement. They have been asked if they would prefer State care, and neither desired it.

"I see no reason to remove the minor siblings from the only home they have known, and from the only family they have left. Here, together, they can rebuild their lives and try to put this tragedy behind them. They have a network of friends already in place to render support. In short, Your Honor, it would _not_ be in the State's best interest to increase the load on the already overburdened foster care system, when there is an adult relative willing and able to care for the minors in question."

During all this, Mr. Carter was pulling out forms of my income, our father's life insurance policy, my savings account statements, Dad's will, and forms from the Social Security Administration; handing each to the bailiff who in turn passed it to the judge. He looked over all the documents as they arrived in front of him with a blank face. A poker game, my brothers being the chips.

"Darrel, my condolences on the loss of your parents, but sir, what experience do you have raising teenagers?"

I wasn't ready for questions, my mind already spinning itself to pieces. "Aside from having been one and survived it unscathed, not much sir. But these are my brothers, not strangers to me. I've known them every day of their lives. I can do this. I'm nearly twenty. I want to keep my family together. Sir." Yup, that's me. Open mouth, insert foot. I sounded like I was begging.

He nodded, looking everything over. "I'm pretty confident you can handle it, or will learn how to, eventually. However, until a time comes where I feel inspections won't be necessary, I'm going to authorize Child Protective Services to do random check's at your house. That means, your brothers can stay in your custody as long as they remain out of trouble and can maintain their scholastic standings, but CPS will have the right to see your brothers and their living conditions at any time. If they seem unfit, your case will be reevaluated and custody can be revoked. Any questions?"

"No sir, your honor." Mr. Carter said with a nod.

"No," I shook my head. I didn't like that the judge was giving that hateful Mrs. Dabner permission to come over and bother us, but was glad the boys wouldn't be pulled away from me either. That would have been more than unbearable.

"Fine. Custody of Sodapop Curtis and Ponyboy Curtis is remanded to Darrel Curtis Jr. Case closed." He hit the gavel on the wooden block, and that was that.

XXX

"No. NO! _NO!"_

Grrrr! More screams. Another race down the hallway. Soda reached him first, his arms already pulling Ponyboy into a tight embrace despite my not being very far behind. I flipped the lights in his room, seeing him quivering slightly as he clutched Soda to him, his eyes squeezed shut tight.

"Easy, Pone. Easy. Ain't no one gonna hurt you. Shhhh." Soda rocked him slightly. It didn't look like the sheets needed changing tonight, it was only fear that held him in its grip. Pony's hand clutched at Soda's arm as he held him tight. I sighed, giving him the once over.

"You okay there, Ponyboy?" I asked.

He nodded, letting Soda go and sitting up more. "Yeah, I uh, I'm sorry bout this. I didn't mean to wake you, I really didn't."

Soda gently clapped him on his shoulder. "It's fine. Bad dream, or something else?"

He shrugged. "I... I don't really remember. I don't know_ what_ it is that's spooking me." he answered, looking between Soda and me, then down. "I just don't know." He sniffed, the expression on his face filled with as much despair as ever.

"Well, lets get some sleep. You both have school again in the morning, and I expect you_ both _to be there, the _whole_ day."

Soda gave me a look, telling me he knew I was talking to him. As he started to get up, Pony reached out and snagged his arm.

"Can you... I mean, would you ... _stay _... here ... with me … for a bit. Please?"

Soda scrubbed his face then pulled the blankets down, scooting in opposite Ponyboy. The twin bed really wasn't big enough for them both, but I was too tired to argue about it. I left the room, flipping off the lights on my way out.

XXX

"How'd the custody case go, Darrel?" Mr. Campbell asked.

I paused in my hammering to answer. "Good. The judge awarded me custody, but also has CPS looking over my shoulder too."

"Well, that's typical. Let me know if you need help. I'll work with you as long as you work with me, okay?"

"Sure thing, sir."

He nodded back at me and descended the ladder, I went back to pounding nails.

XXX

The sun was setting as I drove into the driveway. Going inside, I noticed a red bookbag on the couch and a woman's jacket laying over the chair.

"Ponyboy? Sodapop?" I called loudly, then heard the tail tale noises of something going on in Soda's bedroom. The squeak of springs, feet shuffling on the hardwood. Panicked whispers too high to be understood. However, I wasn't stupid, I knew what was going on. "Sodapop!"

The door opened, Soda came out, face flushed and hair disheveled. He pulled a comb out of his pocket. "Hey Darry. Home from work?"

Before he could finish, Sandy came slinking out of his room, smoothing her dress with one hand while checking to make sure her blouse's buttons were done up right with the other.

"Obviously. Did you cut class again?" My glare could cut stone in half, but it wasn't phasing him in the least. While our parents had been left in the dark about the matter, I knew he was in a physical relationship with Sandy. That didn't mean I liked it or approved of it. She weaseled by Soda, grabbing her jacket and things.

"Bye Soda. Evening, Darry."

"Sandra," I said icily. It took two to tango, but she wasn't my responsibility. Her parents would have to deal with her. The door closed and I turned my attention back to Soda.

"Well?" I demanded. He rolled his eyes.

"No, I didn't cut. Didn't get much out of class anyway, but I stayed."

"Then as soon as the bell rang, you came here for an afternoon quickie in an empty house, huh? Lord, Soda, what were you thinking? I hope... God have mercy... I _pray_ you're using rubbers!"

He turned red as he got defensive. "It ain't like I _planned_ it like that, Darry! She came over to help me with my homework. Pony wasn't home; next thing I knew... homework was sort of forgotten as things got heated. And _yes,_ I'm using protection. I ain't totally stupid!"

"You shouldn't be having sex in the first place. You know CPS can come in … you want to end up in some foster home? And where the hell is Ponyboy?"

"You're one to talk! You were getting it on with someone younger than me if I remember right. What was that...a few weeks after you turned sixteen with ..."

"Shut it, Sodapop. We ain't discussing me right now. You and Sandy need to stop before something happens. And for heaven's sake, don't be doing that here. What if Pony had come home before me and caught you? Whacha gonna say to him? And where is he anyway?"

"I locked my door, Darry. Besides, he makes more noise than a rhino when he comes home, dropping books and shoes..."

"_Where is he_?" I interrupted, hands reaching to the sky in exasperation as I asked for the third time.

"Damned if I know! Him and Johnny were heading off after classes!" Soda turned and headed into the kitchen, pulling the refrigerator door open with more force than necessary, making several glass jars shake on their shelves.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him get out some hamburger and toss it into a pan. He pulled out tomatoes and the head of lettuce next. Tacos. Gripping the chairback tighter then pushing off with a frustrated shove, I headed to my room to change clothes, not even wanting to look at the disarray I knew Soda's room would now be in. I was on my way back in when I heard the door open, Pony's soft voice mingling in the air as he spoke with Johnny.

"Ponyboy!" I called as I charged down the hall. "School's been over a few hours now. Where've you been?"

He looked at me, hand frozen in gesture to accompany whatever he was saying. Johnny sat on the chair, silent.

"I went to the lot with Johnny, tossing the ball some," he answered quietly.

"You should have come home to study. You heard the judge, you have to keep your grades up. Football can wait. Understand?"

He nodded. "Sure, Dar."

Two-Bit and Steve came in then, abruptly halting once their feet hit the inside of my door, feeling the tension. An uncomfortable silence fell over everything and I turned back into the kitchen. It looked like Soda had dinner almost done, so I grabbed the plates and silverware, heading over to set the table.

The guys went to the kitchen, whispering softly with him, obviously not wanting me to hear the conversation. I didn't grab most of it, just something about the DX down the street and Steve going over there.

"Wellup, I gotta head out." Two-Bit said, heading for the door. He didn't get far. The door was already open with yet another familiar face coming inside.

"Well now boys, what's the rush? Y'all leaving on my account?"

The familiar tones of one Dallas Winston were unmistakable.

"Hey there, Two-Bit. Johnny.... how ya been?"

"Dal, let's go outside for a bit..." Steve said, coming out of the kitchen. The looks on the guys faces told me exactly what they wanted Dallas out of the house for. He'd been in the cooler for a little over a week now, he probably didn't know about our parents' deaths. If Steve was trying to spare me or my brothers, I didn't know.

"Hey, come off it, Steve. I just come by to see what's been going down, ain't no reason to get pushy!" Steve was doing his best to corral Dal outside, Two-Bit coming over to lend a hand. They only got so far before Dallas got angry. "Back off, guys... now!"

"Steve... Two-Bit, it's okay. Hey Dally, have fun in the joint?" I called over, the guys warily backing up.

"It ain't no friggin picnic, but it's got its good side too. Three hot meals and a single cell to myself. Or mostly to myself. Had a drunk for a cell mate the first night, some high school kid that can't hold his liqueur. Stupid kid was so soused, he didn't know what was going down. I helped free him of some hardware though," he was admiring what looked like a high school ring on his hand, one I knew wasn't his since his schooling ended when he was 16. "- doubt he'll even remember being in the joint, let alone the moment he parted with this. Whaddya think, Johnny.. that a real ruby or a fake one?" He held the ring down to show off, Johnny giving it an appreciative glance.

That ring. I'd put in four hard years of constant study to earn mine. Dad had saved my whole senior year to afford it. They had given it to me as a gift just a few months shy of graduation. I looked at my hand, now bare. I'd pawned it, needing the extra dough to pay for our folks headstone.

Pony had handed me a drawing of what he'd like on their headstone, three birds, fluttering about on their own while on either side of the headstone were two different bouquets of flowers - one Calla Lily's, the other Roses. Mom always loved those flowers the best and Dad had managed to give her one or the other every year on their anniversary. Pony'd said nothing, just handed the paper to me and walked away, but I understood. Soda picked out the red granite stone, upping the price a little more. I'd paid for the headstone with everything I had on me, promising to pay the rest this month. It was due to be delivered soon. Dallas's ring made me wince. It was gotten without being earned. The value of mine had been priceless.

"Man, why all the long faces?" He asked, looking around. No one said a word. "Sodapop, that you cooking? What, your old lady demanding a holiday or something?"

Over by the table, in that fraction of a second, I watched as Pony's face grimaced in pain before looking away. In the kitchen behind me, all I could hear was the sizzling of the frying pan from leftover residue burning the bottom. I didn't have to say anything, both Steve and Two-Bit rushed Dallas, each grabbing an arm and hauling him outside. He protested, cursing loudly, but it only lasted a moment. Words spoken too low for me to hear were said, then an unmistakable... "-Killed? You're shitting me! When?"

Johnny got up, walking to Pony's side, putting a hand on his shoulder but saying nothing. He sniffled harshly but remained silent. In the kitchen, the sizzling stopped. I slid the silverware out by our three plates, feeling the heaviness in the room.

"You guys okay?" I asked carefully, not looking at either of them.

"Yeah," came Soda's answer. In my peripheral vision, I saw Pony nod his head. I worried about both, but Pony was still taking this harder than I imagined.

The door opened again, Dallas looking a mix of angry and shocked as he came back inside. His eyes met mine, then jumped from Soda's to Pony's. "Christ, fellas, I didn't know. No one told me..."

"Not like there was anything you could have done, Dal." Soda said, putting our dinner on the table.

"I could'a been here. I_ would_ have, you know that," he insisted.

"We do. And for what it's worth, thanks." I said, wishing everyone would clear out. Pony's chin was quivering, but was steadfastly refusing to give an inch. He hadn't moved, just stood there, gripping the table's edge until he was white knuckled.

"You guys need anything?" Dal offered, uncertainty in his tone.

"No. We're good."

An uncomfortable silence remained in the room. No one moved or spoke, the tension thick. Finally Pony walked away, wiping his eyes as he headed for his room and shut the door.

"We just need some time, if you guys don't mind." I said, my voice empty, drained of emotion. They took the hint, each heading out. A minute later, Soda and I stood by the table, alone.

"I'll go see about Ponyboy," Soda softly said. "Maybe I can get him to eat."

I nodded. I looked at the food, my own appetite gone as well.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	5. I'd tell them about my new job later

**From The Beginning**

Chapter 5

**I'd tell them about my new job later.**

XXX

It was ten before five, still dark out but I was up already. A headache woke me, I wasn't sure if it was from tension, stress or the horrible diet I'd had for a while. No one was eating right, but I tried to set a good example by cooking meals and insisting on Sodapop's and Ponyboy's presence at the table. They mostly picked at their food, Soda managing to get more down his throat than Pony. It was starting to show, both were getting pale while Pony also seemed to get thinner by the day. His clothes hung loose off him, as if he were wearing Soda's wardrobe and not his own.

On my way down the hall, I noticed Soda was still in Pony's room, his arm curled around Pony's chest, Pony's head tucked just under Soda's chin. A week of constant nightmares resulting in sleepless nights was wearing us all out. I hope this phase, problem, or whatever it was would pass soon.

I made omelets, hoping that would entice them to put something in their stomachs. Somewhere between plating the eggs and pouring the juice, Soda arrived in the kitchen, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes.

"Morning. How'd you two sleep?"

"He had another nightmare but it didn't seem as bad. I don't remember the time, just" - yawn- "that I felt him trembling and saying 'no' over and over in his sleep. I pulled him to me and he stopped. I don't know which of us was out first after that. I fell asleep."

"And how long is this gonna go on? He ain't ten, you two shouldn't be sharing a bed."

He gave me a soured look and sat down, gulping his juice and scratching his head. "You of all people should know better than that. Trust me, if you have a better idea, I'm all ears."

The sounds of feet coming down the hallway silenced the conversation. He sat down in his chair opposite Soda, looking at his omelet – his face void of expression.

"Morning sleepyhead." I coaxed, trying to get something close to a smile from him.

"Morning," he answered back, his eyes not moving from the plate. Soda looked at me and raised his eyebrows, then got his fork and started to eat.

"Eat, kiddo," I prompted, picking my own fork up. He followed suit, but only used it to stab the omelet a few times.

"How's school going?" I asked, swallowing my coffee. Soda didn't answer, I didn't expect him to.

"Fine. I already know I made a B in English. None of the other teachers have told us our grades. Report cards will be out later this week."

"Thanks, Pone." Soda said with glum sarcasm. Now that they were both going to the same school, it was easier keeping up with class schedules and dates. However, while Pony did well, Soda didn't; and hated report card time vehemently.

"Sorry," Pony answered softly, putting his fork down apparently having stabbed the omelet to his satisfaction but having eaten none of it.

"You can do better than 'B's.' You and I both know it." I reminded him in a low tone.

"I'll do what I can to bring it up." He answered zero enthusiasm.

"See that you do. And Soda, just _pass_ your classes. That ain't asking for much out of you, either. We all have a job to do around here, and both of yours is school. As for me, I gotta get going. I might be late coming in tonight, my boss said he wanted me to go out to get supplies this evening; so when you guys get home, start dinner and work on your homework. Okay?"

"Sure," Soda said.

"Okay," Pony nodded. They looked like the saddest kids on the block, but I didn't have time to coddle them. I needed to get going early in order to get that roof finished before tonight.

X

"That's a good looking roof, Darrel. You have a good eye." Mr. Campbell appraised my work, a satisfied look on his face.

"Thanks, sir. You're the one who taught me."

He grinned, nodding. "And you remembered what I said."

The day had gone by before I knew it. I'd hauled up several bundles of shingles and had them laid out all over the roof, just so I could go on autopilot without having to climb up and down the ladder too much. I could carry two bundles of roofing, but after my third load, even my shoulders were starting to feel it. I'd need a heating pad on my shoulder tonight but for now, I didn't let the boss see me being bugged about it.

"Here, you've earned a break. I need you to go to the building supply store downtown. Get these things on the list, have them charged to my account, and bring them back. I want to start on the interior either today if there's time, or tomorrow first thing."

I took the list, nodding. "Sure thing, Mr. Campbell."

X

The supply store was a warehouse filled with just about anything a builder could think of to build a house. _Everything_ was here - from lumber to shower curtains. I went to customer service, holding out the list and asking where I was supposed to start.

"This if for Mr. Cambell's account?" the woman at the service desk asked as she looked over the paper. "Yeah, he's pretty good about putting the product numbers with his requisitions. Just follow the store map; the items are laid out pretty clearly. Match the item number on your list to the item number on your sheet … it's pretty self explanatory. When you're done, just go to register 18 to check out."

I thanked her and grabbed a flatbed cart; there were lots of items on the list.

X

"No..... oh!"

A woman's cry followed by a thunderous crash around the corner got my attention. I looked and saw some broad staring at a load of overturned boxes, each small enough to look like shoe boxes. Something told me those weren't shoes.

"Need help?" I asked, going over. I picked one up to place it back on the shelf and was surprised by the weight.

"Sorry... I just needed a few feet. I didn't realize the whole thing would come crashing down."

"What's in here?" I asked out loud without meaning to. They were heavy, like concrete blocks.

"Chain."

Uh huh, no wonder.

"Can I help you sir?" An irate salesman called out as he came over.

"It was my fault. I just need a few feet of chain, next thing I knew, the whole display was on the floor. I'm so sorry."

The salesman looked taken aback. I had the last of the cases of chain back on the shelf, dusted off my hands and started to leave. "Now that he's here," I said, hoping that guy would take the hint, "... I'm sure he can help get you that length of chain. Bye now."

Twenty minutes later as I had most of the stuff on the list, that same salesman came over to me.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir; but do you have a moment?"

I looked at him, wondering how much trouble I was in for trying to do a good deed. I nodded. "Sure."

"I noticed you lifted those cases without too much difficulty. We've been looking for some night help here in the warehouse when the night time deliveries are made. Would you be interested in some part time work, a few hours in the evening a few times a week?"

Was this guy actually offering me a job? "How often and how much?"

"Well, I ain't the boss, but he's been looking for someone for a while. Seems no one's interested since it's an evening thing. I'd sure like to introduce you to him, if you have the time."

I looked at my watch. "My boss is expecting me back with these supplies. Is he going to be here later?"

He smiled. "Yeah. He gets in around noon and stays until the work is done – usually around midnight. Ain't no customers in the store, just the stockers. If you're gonna come back tonight, ask for Billy. Billy Mayes. He's the night time supervisor. My name's Rick. You can tell him I sent you, if you're interested."

"Yeah, thanks Rick. I'll be back after I get off work. Won't make no promises, I still need to know how much and how often he wants me to work first."

He nodded his head. "I understand that. Didn't catch your name...."

"Darrel Curtis."

"I'll tell Billy to keep on the lookout for you. Thanks."

I nodded and he left. On my way back to the construction site, the offer sounded better and better the more I thought about it. Any extra dough would be a blessing. I wanted to have more than just a few months worth of emergency funds in the bank. Already I could tell what I had allotted for grocery wouldn't be enough. Even without the guys eating much, it was getting used up faster than I expected. Between the mortgage and the electricity bills, it would all be gone soon.

X

My shoulders were both sore now, but I was glad to be done with that roof. I'd learn about indoor carpentry tomorrow, but for now, I was back at the builders warehouse, knocking on the glass as the doors were locked. It took a few minutes but finally someone came over and opened it.... just a crack.

"We're closed. Store opens back up at nine in the morning."

"Yeah, is Rick here, or Billy Mayes?"

The man opened the door a bit wider. "Who's asking?"

"I was here earlier today; some man named Rick told me you were looking for evening help stocking stuff. Told me to come back tonight to see him or Mr. Mayes. My name's Darrel Curtis. If this was some come-on, I'll go." I was cold and tired, not to mention my back was aching something fierce. If the job wasn't serious, I'd rather just go on home than stand here and dicker about it. Suddenly he opened the door all the way, allowing me to come inside.

"Sorry about the questions, but it's just the three of us here. We don't need anybody wanting to rob us. I'm Kevin, Rick's in the back and Billy's over signing stuff off the truck. Come on, I'll take you."

We wound our way around the store and back to the loading dock area. Rick was busy driving the forklift but waved. Kevin took me to some man with a clipboard in one hand, pen in the other.

"Billy, this here's Darrel Custis. He's here about a stockman position."

"Curtis," I corrected, hand out to greet the boss. "Darrel Curtis. Rick told me about the job, said to come see you."

"Darrel, good to finally have someone wanting to work. Rick tell you anything about the job?"

"No sir. I was hoping to hear more about it before I agreed to anything."

"Fair enough," he answered, marking off boxes as they made their way off the conveyer belt on into the store. "I need someone who ain't afraid of working up a little sweat, who can be just as productive in the nighttime as they are in the daylight, and who ain't gonna call out every shift. Aside from all that, the position requires you to be able to lift fifty pounds, find where the merchandise goes on the right shelf, and makes sure it won't fall off the moment someone touches it. The inside guys do all the rest. What I need, in short, is reliable muscle." He looked at me, up and down. "You look like you got the muscle, but are you reliable?"

"I'm reliable, but what's the pay and the hours?"

He chewed the lid of his pen, thinking it over. I wasn't desperate for work, and wasn't going to be pushed around.

"I got trucks pulling in here nearly five nights a week. The only night they won't show is Sunday. I pay two dollars an hour. Shift starts at nine, ends when the works done, usually around midnight. What nights can you work?"

I had to admit, that was pretty good money. "I can give you Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights."

He chewed his pen lid some more then nodded, extending his hand. "Fine. I can use the help. Now that the holidays are over, people are wanting to build again and inventory is increasing. Steel toed boots are the only requirement; other than that, you can wear whatever you want - just so long as it's clean. If you want gloves, you'll have to supply them yourself. Since tomorrow's Thursday, you can start then. Follow the delivery route to the back of the store and park over here, under the light post. We ain't here long enough for no dinner or snack breaks, so don't bother with a meal. I think that's covered it, you have any questions?"

I couldn't think of any. "No sir."

He grunted. "I ain't old enough for no 'sirring.' Just call me Billy. See you tomorrow, Darrel."

XXX

"Hey guys, I'm home," I called, closing the door behind me. Soda was watching TV, Ponyboy was doing the crossword out of the paper. At the table, Johnny looked nervous as he sat there eating something from a bowl. "Hey Johnny. How ya been?"

He winced as I clapped his shoulder. "Fine, Darry." His voice sounded odd, making me look down. His eye sported a shiner. The swelling was just starting to build. In the morning it would be impressive.

"What happened to you?" I got a washcloth and dropped some ice into it, wrapping it up to hand to him. He gingerly put it over his eye.

"Thanks. Nothing much. Just my pop... well, you know." His voice got lower and lower until I really couldn't hear him well, but I understood. His folks are like too many others on this side of town. They either ignore their kids, letting the kids get into every kind of conceivable trouble if not causing the trouble outright, or use them to take out their frustrations on. Abuse takes many forms. Physical bruises everyone can see, and verbal abuse that not everyone hears. In Johnny's house, he gets both.

"The couch is yours if you want to sleep here tonight."

He shook his head. "That's okay. Thanks though." He finished off whatever he was eating, taking his bowl to the sink to wash. "Later, Ponyboy."

He slipped out the door before I could think of a way to convince him to stay. Johnny wasn't like Steve. Steve's father wasn't winning any awards either in the parenting department, and lately Steve had been showing up more than his usual to camp out at our place. Mom and Dad had made all the guys aware that they never needed to roam around looking for a place to stay if trouble found them at their place. However, since they'd died, only Steve had been over.

I sank into a chair, rubbing my neck and back.

"You hurt yourself?" Soda asked.

"Naw. Just pulled something. It'll be fine."

Pony got up and headed into the kitchen, coming back with some pills and a bottle of Pepsi.

"What's this?" I asked, looking at he pills.

"Aspirin."

He went back to the crossword, his pencil tapping his cheek as he concentrated. I grinned, swallowing the pills and chasing them with the Pepsi. "You know, I get these for you. I can drink water."

"Sorry," he said absentmindedly. I shook my head, still rubbing my neck.

"Here, lemme see what I can do. Take off your shirt." Soda came over and rubbed Ben-Gay into my back. I hated the way it smelled, but it's instant relief and Soda's massaging fingers more than made up for it. After a while, I'd forgotten how much time had passed and was about to fall asleep under his touch.

"Thanks. It's late, guys. Better be off to bed."

"Not yet." Soda said. I looked up, Pony had gone into the kitchen while Soda flicked off the lights. I wondered what they were up to but didn't ask. Soda glanced over into the kitchen, a faint smile on his face as Pony carefully made his way back to the dining room, carrying a cake, a small inferno of candles glowing on top. He sat it down in front of me, looking unsure, then turned his glance to Soda who explained.

"We sort of forgot your birthday, Darry. It didn't dawn on us until this afternoon. Pony remembered before I did. We're sorry."

_My birthday._ Hell, even I'd forgotten. It'd been on the fifth, I'd been twenty for a few days now. I smiled. "That's okay, guys. Looks like I forgot too, what with everything else going on. Don't sweat it."

"Ain't ya gonna blow out the candles?" Pony asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

I did, smoke making everyone cough for a moment. "This is really nice of you. You both gonna eat some, right?"

"Yeah, of course." Soda assured. Even Pony nodded.

I cut some slices, each of us sitting down to eat in silence. Mom always made a production out of birthdays, even mine. There was usually a celebration dinner – Dad would grill no matter what the weather, followed by cake and ice-cream. Presents too, but I knew better than to ask. I didn't want anything anyway. My presents were sitting at the table with me, eating a hastily made cake. In a way, I was glad I had to have the first birthday without them. I could show Soda and Pony that even though our parents were gone, we could go on. I'd rather have this burden first than either of them.

"Thanks. Who made the cake?"

"I did," Pony started.

"I did up the frosting." Soda added with a gleam in his eye.

"It's perfect." I finished. If I weren't so tired, I'd be jumpy from the sudden sugar high I felt thundering through my bloodstream.

"We ought to have cake all the time, if that's what it takes to cheer you up." Soda teased me.

"Sounds good to me." Pony grinned. I'd noticed he'd eaten half his slice before pushing his plate away. It was probably the largest "meal" he'd had in days. Soda, in his typical form, had eaten all of his, nearly scraping his plate clean.

Looking at them, I thought how simple it was. _Cake_. If that's what it took to get that sad-sack of a brother to smile again, I'd try it. We could all use something small like this to look forward to, as long as they ate a healthy meal before diving into the sugary dessert. I picked up the cake platter, covering it with Saran Wrap and slid it in the fridge.

"Okay, both of you, brush your teeth then off to bed."

I watched them get up and head down the hallway, so tired they were bumping into each other. I'd tell them about my new job later.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

A/N Disclaimers are always (unless I forget, which I then correct as soon as it clicks) given at the beginning of my stories. BUUUUUTTTT, just in case someone out there didn't see it, I DON'T OWN ANYTHING RELATED TO _**THE OUTSIDERS**_, ALL GLORY, ALL HONOR, ALL KUDOS BELONG TO S.E. HINTON.

'Nuf said.

Thank you. : - )


	6. A rift had begun

**From the Beginning**

Chapter 6

**A rift had begun.**

XXX

"Hey Darry, check it out! Free oil changes!" Soda said laughingly as he and Steve came over. Steve shoved him into the fence with a scowl.

"I didn't say nothing about no free car work. You wanna get me fired?"

"Hell, you know that boss ain't gonna fire the best mechanics in Tulsa." Soda spat back. "You know everything there is to know about cars, inside and out."

"Well, we all can't have my gifts, now can we!"

It wasn't hard to miss Steve's smugness over the one thing he actually was good at. Soda was good with cars too, having tinkered with engines since he was old enough to figure out how to take his tricycle apart. Mom thought that was cute. She also thought it was cute when he took my bike apart – without asking me first. She'd stopped laughing when she found him taking Ponyboy's crib apart... with him still in it.

"I have my own gifts, thank you _so_ very much!"

"You guys are laying it on a little thick, ain't ya? I wouldn't exactly call being a grease monkey a gift."

"Well, it's a start." Steve said, looking at Soda nervously. He slapped his back pockets and looked around. "Where is that weed fiend of a brother you got? I know he's packing."

I groaned inwardly. It was true that Pony'd been smoking for a while. Even before our parents died, I'd smelled it on him but had never caught him lighting up. Since the funeral and the increasing nightmares, his habit had exploded. I'd catch him laying against a branch in the oak tree in our backyard, a smoke dangling between his fingers as he lay there, staring at things I couldn't fathom.

"Backyard." I motioned with my chin, my hands tied up in the rope I was bundling. The shed was a mess and needed cleaning badly. Work had kept me from it until now, but today was just too nice a day to stay inside. The temperatures had finally warmed up and the snow had melted from our recent dusting. I was off from work and had no excuse for not getting it done.

"Um, Darry... we need to talk."

Soda was not a serious person. He played, he joked, he laughed. He found humor in everything. For Soda to be serious meant something was wrong. That meant this was going to be something I wouldn't like. I looked at him, waiting.

"You saw my report card," he started, "it's pretty obvious... I'm not going to pass."

"The year ain't up. You can pull those F's into D's and still squeak by." I hadn't been pleased with either of their report cards. Pony's report card had 4 'B's and 2 'A's. I knew he could have done better. He'd been bumped up a grade the year before; this work was no where near the limit of his ability, just - we'd gone through so much with losing our parents that his concentration was shot.

Soda, on the other hand, had never been one to make good grades. His report card nearly made me want to vomit. The only things he was passing were gym and shop. I knew he could_ do_ it... he just didn't put forth any effort. Almost like he was _trying_ to fail, and I couldn't understand why.

"Darry, I ain't gonna pass, and you know it."

I looked at him. He stood there so sure of himself. I didn't get it.

"If you fail, then you'll repeat the grade." I said trying hard to keep my voice steady.

He looked around, squinting into the bright blue sky. "I'm not repeating the grade either." He looked back at me.

It took me a moment to figure out what he was saying. "You can't _quit,_ Sodapop."

"I'm not passing, Darry. There's no point in me hanging out at school twiddling my thumbs wasting the day when I could be doing something more productive... helping us out."

"And what's_ that_ supposed to mean? It's my job to handle that."

"Come off it, Dar. You know exactly what I mean. I've seen the 'past due' envelopes piling up. I know we're behind on the some of the bills. Let me help! Let me do something useful for a change."

"Passing school is useful. How far do you think you're gonna go without a diploma?"

"I'm _not _passing, Darry. And it ain't like I haven't tried - I_ have_. I don't get school. My head just ain't wired like yours and Pony's, and that's fine! I ain't got no college aspirations! I'm okay with just being a mechanic!"

Now I looked closer. "Sodapop, what are you telling me?" I demanded in a charged undertone.

"I sort of got a job. At the DX ... where Steve works."

I looked over at Steve, pulling on his smoke while hanging out with Ponyboy, looking directly at me. I should have known something was up, usually those two can't be in the same room together, let alone less than two feet apart.

"You can't quit school, Sodapop! You'll never go back! And you know this ain't what Mom or Dad would have wanted!"

"So they would have wanted you to work two jobs instead, killing yourself for peanuts to keep the lights on? Is _that_ it? Darry, they would have wanted us to work _together!_ Now stop it and listen to me, please! You and I both know that on paper, _you_ are in charge. But in reality, it's up to both of us when it comes to Ponyboy. We have to work together to get him through. I ain't going to college, even if I_ were _to graduate – which ain't gonna happen! But Pony... Ponyboy just might make it. _Might;_ but not if things keep going like they are.

"His chances have_ nothing _to do with you getting your high school diploma...-"

"-...They have_ everything_ to do with it if the State comes here and finds you can't pay the bills, or there's no food in the house, or that the phone's been cut off. They'll take him away in a heartbeat. How good do you think he'll do if he's sent to live in foster care? You can't do this on your own, Darry! And I _want_ to help! I'm_ going_ to help! Damn it, let me do something I know I can do, something that makes me feel useful!"

I thought fast, I needed another reason. "What sort of example does that set for him? That when the going gets tough, you quit?"

His face scrunched up some, looking skyward then back at me. "Do you honestly think Ponyboy is gonna quit school? He spends his free time in the library. He reads encyclopedia's for fun. He does crossword puzzles. He's already skipped one grade! If there's one soul on the whole of the East side who is going to college, it would be him! Provided we...._ we … _can get him there." He was silent a minute, either fuming or calming down, I couldn't tell. I only knew I was losing this battle. Then he carefully spoke again, his words measured.

"I've already spoken to the guidance counselor, filled out the 'intent to drop' forms. I start Wednesday at the DX, full time. I know you're going to be angry at me, maybe you'll never forgive me... I dunno. But I have to do this. I have to help. Sitting at school all day ain't doing nothing for us. It's for _us,_ Darry. All of us. Please, try to understand."

The weight in the pit of my stomach got heavier and heavier. I'd failed him. I'd failed him and Mom and Dad. I couldn't keep one of my brothers in school. His future would be filled with minimum wage, dead end jobs. Without that diploma, he had no chance of even trade school later on in life. He was_ not_ going to see it my way, but he was right. He was sixteen, he legally could drop out if he wanted to, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I looked over at Pony again, wondering.

"Have you told Ponyboy? I can't imagine he'd be okay with this. He idolizes you too much."

He gave Pony a glance as well, then looked down. "No. I know he ain't gonna be happy about it either, but one day he'll understand. Right now, I just need you to."

I hung the rope up on the hook on the shed wall, resigned. "Okay. If that's what you want to do, so be it."

He looked at me, waiting, I guess for another argument. Another contradiction to his master plan. I shrugged and tried to clean the shelf, my mind so torn up I really wasn't seeing what was in front of me in the first place.

"It'll work out, Darry. It will. It'll be better for all of us. Really."

I didn't know if he was trying to convince me or himself. I nodded. "Right."

He didn't try again, just watched me a while longer. Then, silently, he turned from his spot in the shed's doorway, whistling the low then high notes to Steve who started over to join him. They walked around the house together, disappearing down the walkway. A minute later, I launched the socket wrench in my hand against the back wall of the shed. It bounced back and hit something else. Glass shattered. I didn't stop to see what it was, nor did I care. Whatever it was, I'd fix it or toss it away later. Right then, I was too blinded by emotion to see.

XXX

It had been a few weeks since the funerals, Soda had been working at the DX and doing well at it – cashing his checks and silently leaving his pay on my dresser. I still felt like his leaving school was a mistake, but not having overdue bills was a relief too.

Pony had been, as expected, furious. "_Make_ him go, Darry! You make_ me _go!" He'd nearly screamed at me one of those first days before Soda'd made it home late. This had been our third argument about it, and he still wouldn't listen.

"The two of you are different people, Ponyboy! Besides that, he's sixteen. I can't force a sixteen year old to go to school! _You _are thirteen, quitting isn't an option for you."

"So that's it then, huh? Fine! When I get sixteen, I'll quit too. Why bother with school in the first place!"

"Ponyboy Michael, you are being ridiculous! It ain't like I asked him to quit. I didn't want him to bail! But he's old enough to make this decision, and at least he's doing something productive, not just sitting around the house like others do, costing a fortune while wasting space."

The look on Pony's face stopped me cold. He paled, total white out – as if I'd hit him or something. Then it hit me - he thought I was talking about _him_, when in reality I was referencing so many other hoods in the neighborhood. Hoods that sat around all day doing nothing but got drunk or laid. Bums that waited around for their grandmother's social security checks to steal. Even Two-Bit hung out, doing nothing really productive despite being nearly twenty years old. His only excuse was he was still_ in_ school, and his mother coddled him to no end. But I _wasn't_ talking about Ponyboy. I never thought of him that way. Seeing the look in his eyes, I knew he'd never believe me.

He stopped, dropped his shoulders and turned to leave. I grabbed his arm as he was halfway out of the house, pulling him to face me. "I wasn't talking about_ you_, Ponyboy!"

"Let go of my arm!" he demanded icily. The blazing look in his eyes shocked me. I'd never seen him so menacing. I let go immediately.

He crossed the yard in three strides, then headed down the street. I watched him, wavering on if I should follow or just let him go and cool off. I let him go. He wasn't going to listen to me as upset as he was right now. When he came back, I'd sit him down and explain.

Only he didn't come back. Not for a long while.

XXX

Soda nervously stood in front of the windows, chewing a nail. He'd come home nearly an hour ago, finding me finishing up dinner alone. His ear to ear grin gone the moment he read my face.

"What happened?"

"Pony and I had a disagreement and he split for a while."

"When?"

It was already pitch black outside, far later than Ponyboy had ever been gone. I looked at the clock. "Maybe two hours ago."

"Two hours! Have you gone out looking for him?"

"I circled the block, didn't see him."

He waited, nervously slapping his pockets - expecting more I suppose. "What were you two arguing about?"

I gave him a knowing stare, he rolled his eyes. "You gotta be kidding me!"

"I told you he wouldn't be happy about it."

"Drop it, Darry." He went over to the windows, and waited.

X

"Think we should call the cops?" Soda asked carefully. I'd been wondering how long I should hold out for that. I knew though, the moment I had to call the police to hunt for my brother, social services would be pulling up to take them both away as well.

Thankfully, I didn't have to. The door opened, Dallas coming inside hauling Ponyboy along with him. Behind them, Johnny brought up the rear.

"Here, I found his greasy mug down on the strip. Thought he looked a little homely."

He left Ponyboy in the middle of the room, going over to tear off a piece of the chicken I'd baked. Pony moved out of my vicinity, going over to scowl as he sat, arms crossed, on the far end of the couch. I watched him warily.

"You okay?" Soda asked, going over to him. Pony looked at him, nodding a little then relaxed his posture turning back to look at the fire.

I went over to Dallas, running my fingers through my hair, relief finally flooding me. "Thanks, Dal. What was he doing?"

Dal looked at me, grinning one of his evil grins. "Just hanging out, I guess. All by his lonesome. Figured he'd need a ride back, so I forced him into one. Mine."

Johnny was trying to carefully pull the leg off the bird but wasn't having any luck, so I reached down and yanked it off, handing it to him. His eyes opened big but took the food without a word. Looking over at the couch, Pony was still staring into the fire, avoiding everyone.

"Well, thanks for the food. I got to split. Coming or staying, Johnny?" Dallas asked, licking the juice off his fingers before using a napkin.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming. See ya, Ponyboy." He grabbed some napkins and took his chicken with him.

"Bye, Johnny. See ya Dal."

"Later kid."

The room emptied, leaving just the three of us.

"Pony, I want to explain...." I started, but he got up, heading to his room.

"I've got school in the morning," he uttered, devoid of emotion as he breezed past me. "Night."

I felt it. Like the 'boom' felt between two rams colliding as they battled it out unseen in the forest, I knew. A rift had begun.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	7. All fun aside, I still had to figure out

**From The Beginning**

Chapter 7

**All fun aside, I still had to figure out what I was gonna do with him.**

XXX

"_Stop! No!"_

The sound of something heavy thudded to the floor, and as usual, it was coming from Pony's room. Soda had tried to sleep in his own bed tonight, seeing as how Pony seemed to be coming back to his own again finally. However, the piercing screams told me we were still a ways off from stopping our current night time madness.

"Pone, hold on... wait!" Soda pleaded, trying to unfurl our still flailing brother from the blankets he was snarled in. I reached down to help, getting an uncertain look from Pony just as he finally seemed to get his orientation to time and place right again.

Soda and I looked at him, hair going every which way as he sat on his floor, blankets surrounding him. Spent tears stained his face and his frame still trembled ever so slightly. Whatever was spooking him was not letting go.

"You okay, Ponyboy?" I asked, bending down. He looked at me and nodded. He'd gone back to speaking to me, but his side of our conversations was still short and curt. He just wouldn't talk to me like he used to, I hoped time would fix that. I offered a hand as I stood up. He gave me a hesitant glance before shaking his head, getting to his feet on his own before crawling back in bed. I sighed, having reached the end of my rope.

XXX

It was my lunch break, but I was spending it on the phone. "Hello? Tulsa Pediatrics? I need to make an appointment for my brother. … Yes, I'm his guardian. … Reason? Um, a checkup." How was I supposed to say 'nightmares'? They'd think I was nuts or something. "Ponyboy Curtis." ... "No, that's not a knick-name, it's his real name." ... "When?" ... "Great. Thank you."

I shoved the last of my sandwich down my throat, picked up a bundle of roofing shingles and headed up the ladder again.

XXX

They were both home when I got in. "Hey guys. Mmmh, something smells good."

"It's meatloaf." Soda announced.

"With Sugar Frosted Flakes instead of the bread." Pony amended, grimacing behind his smile. I took a look.

"It doesn't_ look _bad. How's it taste?" I shucked off my toolbelt and headed for the sink to wash up.

Pony shrugged. "Like a sweet meatloaf."

"Ponyboy, before I forget, I made an appointment for you tomorrow over at Dr. Kellers. It's at four, so you won't have to miss school. I'll swing by here and pick you up so don't be late coming home."

"I ain't sick."

"Didn't say you were, but I want you checked out anyway."

"Something going on, Darry?" Soda looked at me, eyes questioning.

"I just want him checked out. See if there's something they can do about his nightmares that we ain't doing."

"Darry, that's stupid! We can't afford no doctors. I ain't sick!"

"Ponyboy, calm down. It's just a check up, no big deal. And let me worry about the money."

He looked at his plate, poking at his dinner now.

"Hey, c'mon kiddo. Maybe they'll have some answers. It beats getting only four hours of sleep a night." Soda assured. Since dropping out, he'd been more apt to agree with me on certain issues about Ponyboy. I wasn't sure if he really felt like I did on those issues or if he was just agreeing to stay off my bad side, but I was grateful for his support.

"Fine. I'll go."

As if he had a choice.

XXX

Pony fidgeted nervously as he sat on the table, the paper gown crinkling with his every movement. When they'd called his name, I went with him into the exam room, earning a scowl from him which I ignored. I wanted to make sure the real issues were dealt with, not something menial.

"What can we do for you today?" asked the nurse.

"He's been having nightmares since our parents were killed. Nothing seems to stop them or make them less … horrific. He's not sleeping and hasn't been eating much. I'm at my wits end as to how to deal with this."

She wrote something down, handed him the gown and told him to change into it. Then she left.

"You ain't gotta watch." he mumbled as he took off his shirt.

That made me laugh. "Ponyboy... it's _me_, Darry! Remember? Your brother? I've seen you wearing nothing but a smile, and that wasn't very long ago either. What's got you so shy all of a sudden? You have something I don't have?"

He turned red as he slipped off his jeans and rolled them into a ball, sliding on the gown then perching himself on the table to chew on his nail. I sat down in the hard plastic blue chair to wait until the doctor came in.

I tried to think of something to say to him to make him less nervous. Maybe tell him again that it wasn't him I was talking about that night almost a week ago, but I didn't want to beat a dead horse. Maybe tell him that I loved him and was proud of him. Every time I thought about trying to break this silence between us, a lump grew in my throat and I couldn't say anything. _Nothing_. So I'd swallow and find something else to say, or say nothing at all. This was one of those 'nothing at all' moments. Thankfully, the door opened up and a silver haired man came in, lines set deep set in his face.

"Ponyboy, it says here - nightmares. How long has this been going on?" While Pony conjured up an answer, the doctor was feeling under his chin, around his neck, and down his chest.

"I see. I'm sorry to hear about your parents' deaths, that must have been horrible. You have your family, your brothers still.... are they helping you?"

I wanted to roll my eyes. _Hell yes_ we were helping him, but frankly, Soda and I had run out of answers, that's why I brought him here. However, I stayed like a statue and watched the doc probe Pony some more. He looked in his eyes, ears and up his nose while Pony mumbled his "yes" answer.

"Do you remember what happens in the nightmares?"

"No."

"Are you eating?" he asked as he whacked one of Pony's knees.

"Yeah."

"Keeping it all down? You're not making yourself throw up, are you?" Whack went the other knee.

"I ain't puking."

"Bathroom habits normal?" He felt along Pony's calves while Pony turned a few shades of crimson.

"Yeah."

The doctor picked up his chart, writing some stuff down then went back to checking him. He listened to his lungs, his heart and his stomach. He seemed satisfied and wrote something else down. He had Pony lay back, pushing in on his stomach in various spots. Pony winced a little but said nothing, eyes trained on the ceiling.

"What grade are you in?"

I felt a spark of pride when Pony mumbled out his answer. Even the doctor glanced at me over his spectacles, momentarily halting his exam for that short duration.

"He was bumped a grade," I explained with a grin. The doctor nodded, his eyes widening some. Guess he didn't see too many smart kids from our side of town that often.

"Do you have a lot of friends at school? Classmates you eat with, chat with between classes?"

"No."

A small frown turned down the corners of the doctor's mouth. "Do you play sports?"

Pony shook his head.

"What do you do for fun?"

Pony sat there, unmoving for an extended amount of time. The doctor just waited, patiently, for an answer. Pony finally shrugged. "Read. Hang out with my friends."

"Are these school friends or buddies?"

"Buddies."

The doc wrote something else down. Finally, he looked up, his questions all answered. "Thank you, Ponyboy. You can get dressed and go out to the waiting room when you're done. Your brother and I are going to go to my office for a moment. We won't be long."

Pony nodded and I followed the doc out the door, down the hallway and into a cramped corner office. He sat down, removed his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. I sat down opposite him.

"Sounds like he's a typical teenager who's had a serious tragedy happen to him. He seems socially withdrawn from his peers, but considering his advanced academic placement, it's expected. He's physically a year behind them, which makes sense that he isn't interested in group sports. He might excel in individual sports if you can find one he'd be willing to participate in. As for his nightmares, what have you been doing?"

"Our other brother has been sleeping next to him, which has helped. I was hoping to get everyone back in their own beds though."

"Well, you can do this one of two ways. Either wear him out with constant activity – sports, yardwork, the gym, even reading if it occupies his mind completely; or I can prescribe medication to make him sleepy. It's up to you."

"Sleeping pills?"

The doctor nodded. "Prescribed. They can be addictive, so I wouldn't recommend using them for any long duration. But, depending on your desperation, I can script him for a three week dosing."

I shook my head. I didn't want to make my situation worse. "No, I'll keep him busy. How is he otherwise?"

He checked his notes. "He's a few pounds lighter than I'd like, but other than that, he seems physically fine. Any other concerns?"

"Keep him busy?" I asked, my own summary of this visit.

"Yep. If that doesn't work, let me know. I'll keep a note in his chart in case you want the prescription. If I'm not here, just have any of the nurses pull his chart. I'll get the script to you as soon as I can." He handed me a slip of paper, the bill, and that was that.

"Thanks." I got my coat and went out to the waiting room. Pony was waiting by the windows, coat on and standing still as he looked out into the bleak parking lot. I paid the bill, wondering if I'd just wasted a lot of money just to be told to play ball and haul him to the gym every day. Still, I had to know. I had to be sure I wasn't doing something wrong.

The ride home was silent. He kept a vigil out his window while I navigated us home.

"I hope Soda remembered to cook." I said, looking over at him.

"If not, there's plenty of peanut butter and jelly."

"A meal in a snap, huh? Well, I think I can add some tomato soup to the menu if it comes down to PB&J."

"Use milk instead of water," he suggested. "It tastes better that way."

XXX

"Well?" Soda asked after Pony had gone to shower. Soda and I carried the plates to the sink, scraping the remnants of Salisbury steaks into the trash before rinsing off the plates. Soda had cooked after all.

"Doc said to keep him busy. Get him into sports if possible. Have him stay active, wear him out - so to speak."

"Great time to try that. It's the middle of winter out there." Soda stared at the icicles forming off the edge of the roof.

"I know. I can take him to the gym with me, let him mess around some. If nothing else, toss him in the indoor pool for some laps."

"When do you have time for that? You're working all the time."

"I didn't say I had all the answers figured out, Sodapop. Give me some time."

"Well, at least we know he ain't sick; just still hurting from Mom and Dad." He washed and rinsed the plates, setting them in the drain to dry.

"I can deal better with him being sick. This is something else. I just wish I knew how long this problem was going to last."

"Well, he's better as long as one of us is there."

I smirked. "You mean as long as _you_ are there. He doesn't want_ me_ near him."

"Yes he does. I swear, don't start treating him any different than you did before the accident. He's still our brother. Don't lose sight of that."

"I haven't. But he still would rather have you, and we both know it."

Soda looked at me, grinning. "Well, that's only because _you_ snore."

"I do not!" I said, swatting him with a dishtowel.

"Yes you do! Good thing you're into construction, cause you're gonna need those skills one day when you snore the house off the foundation!"

I hammered his bicep with my fist, grinning. "Get out of here, you goof ball." He rubbed the spot, laughing at me as he headed down the hall.

Pony came out of the shower, his towel wrapped around his thin frame as he headed off to his room.

All fun aside, I still had to figure out what I was going to do with him.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	8. Life went on but I didn't know how to

**From The Beginning**

Chapter 8

**Life went on, but I didn't know how to get that through to him... let him know it really was okay to live again.**

XXX

The warehouse was closed for inventory, so I was off a few extra nights, meaning I could actually hang out with the guys again. Luckily, there was still some daylight left when I got home. I pulled up to find Steve and Soda under the hood of Two-Bit's car –_ again_ – trying to get that heap of rusted parts to run right. I chuckled under my breath. If they actually managed it, they _should_ be mechanics.

"Hey," I called over. Soda looked up, whacking his head on the low hanging hood.

"Oww.." I heard him moan as Steve laughed at him.

"Hey Muscles. You back already?"

"What do you mean by 'already'? It's nearly six." I came over and looked at the engine. I shook my head, doubting this task they'd taken on. Granted, engines weren't my thing, but even this didn't look like anything I'd seen under any other hood.

"It's just rare to see you out and about in the daylight." he teased.

"Well,_ somebody_ has to make a living around here." I said, bopping the back of his head. He was smart enough to know better than to hit back. "What's everyone up to?"

"Well, me and Steve here are messing with Bessie again..."

"Yeah, we love a challenge." Steve interjected dryly.

"And Ponyboy, Johnny and Dal should be at the lot. What they're doing, I couldn't say."

"Probably smoking, knowing Dallas." Steve finished. "Two-Bit said he'd stop by later."

I figured he was right about the smoking. I'd noticed he was lighting up more, and I didn't like it. "He's gonna destroy his lungs doing that mess. I don't know why you guys encourage it."

"Hell, Darry. It's the one thing he does that seems normal. Ain't too many greasers that don't smoke!" Steve argued, lighting up as if to emphasize the point.

"_I _don't. I'd rather he didn't, either."

"Both of you, lay off. I'll talk with him, Darry."

Uh, huh. I turned and headed for the lot, Soda and Steve following.

Over at the lot, I found the rest of the guys hanging around – smoking – just as Steve suggested. He grinned, I scowled. I found the football in the weeds and tossed it up. It had been a while since I'd tossed it around, and missed it.

"Hey Pony, go long!" I called to him. He looked up, dropped his smoke and took off. I launched it right to him, but he wasn't ready and it bounced off his back.

"Hey! I sort of need my spine, remember?" He shouted to me, bending backward against where the ball had hit him. An assortment of chuckles came from the sidelines.

"Yeah, well, if you'd've caught it, it wouldn't have hit ya. Toss it back."

"Here, Ponyboy. Lemme have it." Dallas called for it, and the game was on. While passing throws, I noticed that while Pony had absolutely no coordination for catching the ball, he was able to get to the other side of the field rather quickly despite this being a weed covered, rubbish scattered vacant lot.

"Hey Soda. C'mere a minute!"

"No fair! He's consorting with the enemy!" Two-Bit called out, breathless.

"Yeah?" He asked as he sidled up next to me.

"I'm gonna throw one long. I want Pony to go for it."

He grinned but shook his head. "You know he can't catch it. Hell, he ain't even catching your short passes."

"It ain't him catching the ball I want to see. Just.... don't block him. Let him run."

Soda shrugged. "Sure, fine. Whatever. Can we play now?"

I nodded, he went back to his side and I huddled the guys. "Pony, go long. It's all you, buddy."

"But … Darry, for one thing, I can't catch. For another, you know Soda's gonna block me."

"Then you're gonna have to sprint and get around him." The look on Pony's face said he didn't believe me. "Just try," I insisted.

He shook his head some but crouched down, ready to run when Johnny snapped the ball.

"Hike!" I shouted, Pony launched and sped off, making it to the other side of the lot before I think Steve even saw him. I sent the ball sailing, watching it slide right through his hands into the bushes. Dallas was whooping it up, laughing. Steve was also coming up with some insults of his own. However, I watched in awe, an idea forming in my head. Football was definitely not in his immediate future... but track had possibilities.

"Have you had your fun yet?" Pony asked, glowering as he made it back through the weeds, tossing the ball at Two-Bit.

"When it comes to you, kid, we're just getting started!" Steve chuckled. Soda did me a favor by whacking him for me. They went at it, punching each other in play, but I went over to Pony's side.

"Come on. I wanna take you somewhere." I tossed the ball to Two-Bit, the rest of them lining up to play again while we walked off.

"Where we going now?" he asked, unsure as we left the lot.

"Just come along and don't ask questions."

We made it to his school just as darkness started to settle. He hugged himself, shivering inside his thin jacket. I knew he was cold but I just wanted to see him go a few laps.

"I want you to run for me, a lap or two around the track as fast as you can." The look on his face wasn't as agreeable as I'd hoped. Still, he shrugged off his jacket and lined up on the chalk line.

"You gonna tell me when to go or is this just another 'wear out Ponyboy' ploy."

"It's both, but I'll tell you when. Ready... set...." He crouched down, his eyes intent on something out in the distance. "Go!"

And he was off, tearing up the lane like a bullet. He wasn't weaving around, instead he took a straight path down the lane then headed into the curve where I could get a profile look at him. His long thin legs were stronger than I gave him credit for, each stride was stretched, covering as much distance as he could. His arms pumped at his sides. He sailed up the other side of the track and as he came nearer, I saw a determined look in his face, his expression intent. As he breezed by me, I looked at my watch, impressed with the time. He kept on going; pumping his arms, his feet so fast I couldn't clearly see them. As he flew past me again, he pulled up, eventually stopping then turned to come back to me. His eyes were bright and his cheeks red - even in the darkness. If I didn't know better, I'd say he enjoyed that little romp.

"Pretty good, Ponyboy!" I said, holding back how truly impressed I was. Since I had never been into track, I didn't know how his times lined up with other kids, but it seemed good to me.

"Thanks. I'd go faster, but my shoes keep slipping."

I looked at his shoes, his old worn tennis shoes where the tread was all but gone. It also looked like his toes were squished some. How long had he had these anyway?

"Do those even fit you anymore?"

He shrugged, slipping his jacket back on. "They'll do for a while longer."

"You have to tell me if your shoes don't fit, kiddo. I can't read your mind."

"They fit. Sort of. Well enough, anyway."

I shook my head. "Tomorrow, when I get off work, we'll go find you some shoes. Then Monday, I want you to find out from the coach about track tryouts."

"Track?"

"Yeah, track. You've got the speed. I bet you can go just as fast as those other kids."

"Darry, they're older. I ain't..."

"Track ain't about bulk, Ponyboy. It's about speed and stealth. You have both. Just try it. Maybe you'll like it."

"Fine. If you insist."

I smiled down at him. "It ain't that I'm insisting. I just think it's something you might like and do well at. Give you something new to do, something to look forward to; that's all."

"It's gonna cost money. Uniforms, shoes..."

"I've told you already, don't worry about money. We'll handle it."

"But if I didn't cost so much to take care of, Soda could come back to school!"

I looked at him closer. Despite not looking at me, I could read anger and disappointment all over his face. "Ponyboy, do you really think _you_ are the reason he quit school?"

The pained look in his face answered me. He nodded once. I sat on the cold bleacher seats next to the infield, looking up at his face. It was quiet around us now, only the sound of distant cars going by interrupted the silence.

"He didn't quit because of you, kiddo. He quit because he gave up on himself. He thinks he's not smart enough to do this; not because of anything you or I did. And he's right, he's not like you and me. Schoolwork came easier for us than it did for him, but he's not stupid. He's not dumb, no matter what he says. Anyone who can put a transmission back together like he can ain't dumb. He's got his gifts, just like you have yours and I have mine. So, stop thinking you're the reason he quit, cause you're not. Besides, he's happier now than I've seen him in a long while, doing what he likes. And kiddo, I want _you_ to be happy too, doing what_ you_ like. What would make you happy, Ponyboy?"

I watched him, waiting for an answer. He looked at the stars overhead, thinking. It seemed like forever before he spoke.

"I already_ am_ happy," he mumbled, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets.

He was cold, shivering just a little. His breath came out in thin white clouds that blew away, disappearing in the night. His words pained me, I knew he wasn't happy. I had no idea what would bring a genuine smile to his face again, make him feel good about being alive anymore. It was almost as if he had shut down. He said nothing more so I stood up.

"C'mon, lets get on home. Warm up, maybe make some hot chocolate." He likes chocolate. This time, it didn't even bring a glimmer of a smile to his face.

If only I knew what to do for him. Nightmares, sadness... I _understood_, but I couldn't really help. Life went on, but I didn't know how to get that through to him … let him know it really was okay to live again.

XXX

Calla Lilly Rose


	9. I still had no idea

**From The Beginning**

Chapter 9

**I still had no idea.**

XXX

A muffled noise got my attention, waking me from a sound sleep. My eyes open wide, I concentrated for the noise again. It wasn't Soda and Pony whispering and giggling in Soda's room; that had been hours ago and this was something different. I didn't hear it again, but all my senses were firing. I quietly got up, grabbing my baseball bat from its spot next to my dresser. Creeping down the hall, I saw the boys nestled together, asleep in Soda's bed. My heart thumped, concerned for their safety if not for my own. There hadn't been any break-in's in our neighborhood in years... no one on this side of town had anything of value to steal anyway, but I was sure I'd heard a noise. I tiptoed further to where I could see the living room, making out a shadow moving around.

I raised the bat, using my elbow to flip the switch. If I had swung, I'd have taken off Johnny's head.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed as he spun around. I stopped suddenly, putting the bat down and coming closer. "What happened?" I asked more seriously.

"It's nothing, really Darry," he said, trying to avoid looking at me. He gave up when I lightly fingered his chin to face me. "It'll heal in time." He muttered, his words slurring some as he tried to not re-open his split lip.

His right eye was red and swelling, and a trail of blood made it's way down his chin from his lip. I grabbed some ice and a dishtowel to make a cold pack, handing it to him then got the first aid kit.

"This might sting..." I said absently as I cleaned him up. He winced, but didn't pull away. "Who hit you?" He wouldn't say, which told me a lot. "Your Dad?" I guessed softly. His parents were always skinning him for something - trivial stuff usually.... Johnny acted tough, but he was too timid to really cause any trouble. He'd back anyone up in a fair fight, and if he was on his own and cornered he might come out swinging; but otherwise he shied away from trouble and was rarely the one to start a fight.

His eyes shut, a slight nod followed. I sighed, giving him another once-over and tossed the bloodied Q-tips away. "Stay here tonight. I can't sew that lip, but it'll heal okay in a few days. As far as your eye, you'll have a tuff looking shiner there for a while. And next time your folks get on the warpath, come here_ before_ the fists start flying. Okay?"

He tried to grin, winced from the pain, and nodded. "You sure I ain't in the way?"

"You ain't in nobody's way, Johnny. Now lay down, I'll get you a blanket."

I got the blanket off Pony's bed and came back, but Johnny was already out. I slung it over him and headed back to my own bed. On the way, I passed Soda's room, looking in again. Neither of them had woken up.

Pony was laying with his back to Soda's chest, his head tucked under Soda's chin. Around Pony was Soda's limp arm. This was how I was getting used to finding them. Soda had given up sleeping in Pony's bed and now the two of them used Soda's, his being queen sized and therefore more accommodating to the space they both took up. It still bothered me that they were sleeping in the same bed,_ but_ … it could be worse. At least Pony's nightmares were slowing down and Soda seemed like he was getting more rest at night. If I couldn't have them in their own rooms, at least I could have them both getting adequate zzz's.

Watching them just for those few moments, I saw something curious. Pony jerked slightly, a frown forming on his face. Soda's arm flexed some, he murmured something too low for me to hear, then they were both silent and still again. Neither had opened their eyes. I wanted to watch longer, but the pull of sleep was calling me again, so I crept back to my room, pulling my blankets over me and was out in no time.

XXX

"... Well, Darrel, I know you're capable of handling just about anything that comes along...."

Mrs. Mathews was giving me the third degree again. Apparently, Johnny had told Pony about how I'd found him in our house a few days ago, Pony had slipped it to Two-Bit, and he in turn had joked about it in front of his mother. Now his mother was here in my living room, extolling the need for better locks on my doors. I realized she only meant well, having seen us all grow up and was just as saddened at our parents loss as we were. However, I also knew that for many of the guys, there weren't too many other places to go to cool one's temper that didn't sell drugs, sex or alcohol on the same premises. I wasn't about to lock my door to anyone in the gang who needed a place... and that included her own son.

"Mrs. Mathews," I said, my too-tight black T-shirt giving a visual demonstration in case my words somehow got misconstrued, "I appreciate your concern, but I'm sure we'll be fine. If any of our friends needed a place to go, they know they can always come to my house. New locks would be useless, I'd rarely use them. But... if anyone _did_ come in that didn't belong … I'd take care of it."

She scowled at me – but in a good way. A _parenting_ way. "Son, you just be careful. I don't want anything happening to you or your brothers."

I smiled, trying to be reassuring while ending this. I had to get to the warehouse, and this chat was putting me behind schedule. I was running out of time to have dinner, which was all the little time we had to hang out for the evening. "We will, Mrs. Mathews. I promise."

She gave up and left, letting me finally close the door.

"That woman is a nut!" Soda exclaimed, finally able to sit down at the table to eat.

"Well, she's a good kind of nut. Pass me the beans, Pone."

He did. "I talked to the coach like you said to."

My eyes went up. "And?"

"He said there was room still on the track team. I dunno, Darry. I'd have to get new shoes, and a few jerseys.... all sorts of equipment. Plus, I'd have to get a school sports physical. _And_ I'd have to get it all done_ this month_. There ain't enough time or enough money."

"I can get you in for the physical next week, and as far as the rest of it, between me and Soda, we can get the money for your jerseys and shoes this month. No sweat! Sounds great!"

"Yeah, they were already asking me if I wanted to work Thursday. I'd told them no, but no one else is wanting it. I'll do it; that should take care of a lot of the expenses."

Pony sat stone faced. "It's too much for me to ask. I ain't that good!"

"Aww hush it! It'd be worth it to see you run. Did the coach have you try out?" Soda spoke through a mouth full of food.

"He had me run some laps around the track..."

"And? Were your times good?" I pressed.

"He _seemed _pleased." Pony didn't look as convinced as Soda and I were.

"Great! Now that that's settled, I have to go. You guys clean up, Pony - finish your homework, Soda – clean the bathroom some. I'll be home after midnight. Bye guys!"

"Bye Darry," they called after me as I headed off to work.

XXX

"I need the truck unloaded and Paul called out. Think you can handle it, Darrel?" Mr. Mayes, - Billy- asked.

I looked at the freight. It was a lot, but standing here staring at it wasn't getting the work done. "Sure, Billy, not a problem." I climbed in and started unloading, placing each box on the conveyer to roll down to the waiting guys who would have it be marked off the invoice, and then would send it out to the floor. It would stay in the shipping box until the morning crew slapped stickers on it and after that, it would be available for purchase.

Box after box went down, my back aching more and more with each one. To make the time pass, I kept thinking of what each box symbolized. _That's part of the electric bill, there's gas for the truck, there's some of grocery..._ It made it more bearable to think of it all that way. Finally I turned around, staring at the empty truck and climbed back out. The other guys seemed just as tired as I was, and we were all happy to leave when Billy came back over.

"Good job, guys. And, even better, you got it finished before I expected you too. That'll be it. You guys have a safe drive home."

XXX

"Really? Four of them?" Pony was asking Steve in awe. It was nearly one in the morning yet the whole house was still up, a house that had ballooned with people. Both Pony and Soda were in their sweats ready for bed, but neither of them looked the least bit sleepy. Two-Bit was there too, swirling one of the beers he kept here, and Johnny was here as well, sitting silently at the table.

I liked them all, the whole bunch of them, but right now looking over the crowd, the whole scene made me grumpy. I was tired and sore and in no mood for their company or eventual shenanigans. A quiet night was all I'd wanted. Looking around, it was obvious I wasn't going to get it. And for good reason.

Steve held a cold pack to his head and when he moved it away, I could see a rather large goose egg forming. Looking closer, his hands were scraped up too. All the earmarks of a fight.

"Yeah, kid. Four. Broke my blade at work too, so I thought I was up shit creek until I saw that bottle. They'd been pounding me good until I swooped that baby up and cracked it over one of their heads. It took him a second to figure it out - why he suddenly had blood pouring down his face... then he bowed out. The other three tried to corner me, seeing if they could somehow knock the bottle out of my hand, but gave up. I guess none of them wanted to end up like their friend. Hehehe."

"That's one soc who ain't gonna be hard to spot. Just look for the well-dressed bozo with the stitched up face! Hell, you probably done him a favor, Steve, giving him some battle scars. Might make him look less lily-white!"

"Won't those stuck up soc girls just love that! I probably amped up his social life another notch!"

"You get hurt?" I asked dryly, not really joining in the hoopla.

"Naw," he grinned. I knew better than to pursue an inventory of his injuries. There wasn't a grease in town that hadn't been jumped, so to cry over scraped knuckles and some licks he took on the head would be rank. He wasn't bleeding - at least not anymore (his bloodied nose was still swollen some) so I left it all alone. This was Steve; he'd be fine.

"Well, anyway, thanks for the clean-up." Steve said to Soda, who nodded and clapped Steve on the back.

"No problem."

"You think I can crash here? My old man wouldn't like it too much if I came in at this hour."

"Fine. Take the couch. Soda, you got work in a few hours, Pony... you have school. Bed time, guys."

Everyone started moving around, Two-Bit sliding his coat on and Johnny getting to his feet too. Pony had been leaning on one elbow when I said his name and he nodded and got up.

"Hey, you get your homework done?" Despite being exhausted, I'd wanted to check it over, knowing he'd been having trouble with his math recently. His teacher just wasn't getting the lesson across, so I tried to help when I could. However, his ears got reddish and he looked down, shaking his head.

"Not yet. I'm still working on it."

"Still_ working_ on it?" I boomed louder than I really intended, angry all of a sudden. It was after one in the morning now, he should have been in bed hours ago... and he wasn't done with his homework?

"What were you doing all day? I told you to get your homework _done!"_

He paled some, shaking his head. "I went out to play ball for a while after you left earlier. Then, since Soda cooked, I cleaned the kitchen. When that was done, I started working on my homework again, but...."

"But _what_?" I demanded. So far, all I'd heard were excuses.

"He just went out for a little while, Dar." Soda said.

"That doesn't matter. He should have done his homework before going out to play ball or go hang out. I'm disappointed with you, Ponyboy. You know better – or should have."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. The guys stood there, not daring to move, unsure what to do. Their eyes darted from person to person, cautious and careful.

"I'll uh, go work on it some more. Night, Johnny."

"See ya, Ponyboy." Johnny flipped up the collar on his jacket and headed out, Two-Bit right behind him. Steve had already made his way to our bathroom while Pony slinked off to Soda's room, shutting the door behind him. Once the room had cleared of everyone except Soda and me, I sank into the closest chair, my aching shoulders protesting my every move. I rubbed them, but couldn't reach where it hurt. Next thing I knew, Soda was there, pressing his thumbs into the ache and rubbing it out.

"The doc said to wear him out, Darry," he softly reminded me. I nodded. "I was only following doctor's orders."

"But he can't afford to fall behind in his work," I steadfastly insisted, albeit in a softer tone. I really hadn't meant to scare everyone off, but was glad they were gone nevertheless. "He has to do that _first,_ then if there's time, he can go. Not before."

"If you insist on that, he'll always be left out. His classes are too complicated to allow him time after getting his homework done."

Soda was trying to get me to see reason, but I wasn't feeling very reasonable. "Too bad. I'm not going to let him fall behind just cause he wants to go out and play."

Steve had come back in from the bathroom, kicked off his shoes and laid down on the couch. He had changed into some of Soda's clean gym clothes, his street duds being dirty from work and his fight. He flipped on the set, flipped through once, then turned it off again. The only thing on was static – all the stations had gone off the air at midnight. I looked at the clock and got up. One thirty. If I was going to go to sleep, I needed to get a move on.

My back felt better at least, but I felt bad about Ponyboy. Poor kid's being pulled in too many directions. I knew that, I just didn't know how to deal with it. Judge said they were to keep their grades up, yet Sodapop had already quit school since that edict was handed down. If Pony started spiraling downward grade-wise, the judge might think I can't cut it and remove both of them. On the flip side, if he didn't get his mind off whatever was haunting him at night by mentally going full steam, he'd be an emotional wreck again. Where was the middle ground? What would keep him stable?

I still had no idea.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	10. Shaking my head, I went back outside in

**From The Beginning**

Chapter 10

**Shaking my head, I went back outside in search of other things to fix.**

XXX

The hands on the clock continued their slow march in endless circles, days passed, then before I knew it, months of living without our parents had come and gone. We were surviving. We each had good days and _definitely _we each had our bad, but somehow, we managed. Or rather,_ I_ managed. _Soda_ managed. Ponyboy, I still wasn't sure.

His nightmares continued, despite hours of football, track, and wrestling. Seemed the only benefit to extra hours of study were his grades, because nights brought out whatever fear, anxiety and sadness he'd buried deep within him. Soda dealt with it better than I did, updating me when Pony was out of earshot when the nightmares happened. I'd tried everything I knew to do. I left it to hope that they'd stop on their own.

He also used to be more outgoing, hanging out with other friends besides the gang. Now, he stuck closer to home. He buddied around with Two-Bit some, but along came the warming weather and there went Two-Bit. Seems he and Kathy had issues with spring fever and were all over each other like two bears coming out of hibernation, thankfully making himself scarce around the place.

There were hormones a-plenty already under my roof, what with Soda and Sandy going out all the time. I gave Soda a lecture once or twice about their "conferences in the dark," but he'd brushed me off, telling me he was being careful and he knew what he was doing. It was hard telling him to rein in what he was doing, since when he and Sandy first went out I was actually_ encouraging_ him to get to know her better. However, since becoming the authority figure in the house, the reality of what could happen if an accidental kid were to show up worried me constantly. His future was already daunting since dropping out of school; Sandy getting knocked up would leave him with no future whatsoever. I couldn't get him to understand that while his pay _helped_ us, it didn't _support_ us entirely. It would never support him, a baby and its mother. Still, I gave him knowing looks, trying to get him to have some semblance of self control, but I knew it was a wasted effort. The looks they gave each other said more than words.

Johnny has always been Pony's primary buddy anyway. I have no idea what in tarnation those two talk about, because their conversations seem so few and far between. However, Johnny and Ponyboy manage to keep busy traipsing all over town on the weekends. At least it got him out of the house again. I even let his curfew go to midnight on the weekends – something my parents would never have approved of, just to encourage him to have fun.

And it seemed to be working. He was off to the movies a lot, hanging out with Johnny and – much to my dismay, Dallas.

Now, I do _like_ Dallas, he's not a drug peddling hood or sexual pervert... I'd never let that fool near either of my brothers or step foot on my property if he were, but still... Dallas Winston wasn't my primary choice for quality friendship material. He's rough, tough and hardened. He curses too much, smokes too much and has total disregard for anything legal. He flaunts the law, even has a police record - something he's actually proud of. He goes_ looking_ for fights half the time, fights with blades or without, didn't matter. Essentially, all the qualities I don't want my very impressionable youngest brother to admire in another person.

And yet, he does have his good points. He seems very fond of both Johnny and Ponyboy, making sure that if there are fights, that those two stayed out of the action as much as possible. He even took the fall even when he wasn't the one to blame. Case in point, a drunk Two-Bit was hanging out at the school and some windows seemed to have been too enticing to leave alone. He tossed the rocks, the windows were broken and suddenly, police sirens sounded in the distance. From what Johnny described, after Dallas shoved him under some shrubs, he ran to get Two-Bit out of there too. Two-Bit managed to escape, but Dallas didn't make it out and was hauled in for it, pleading guilty and even did the time without batting an eye. I had to respect him for that.

When he's not in county lock-up or hanging out with his on-again, off again girlfriend, he usually stays over at Buck's place, a place I'd told Ponyboy and Sodapop in no uncertain terms neither of them were to go there... for anything!

Buck has two jobs. His "real" job consists of being a horse owner and jockey at the Slash J stables. He owns a couple horses that he rides a few times a year during racing season, and to double his winnings, he hired Dallas to ride in the same events. That income is good during the riding season, but this isn't Kentucky, and the Slash J ain't Churchill Downs.

To make it the rest of the year, he runs a bar-like establishment on the outskirts of town, and just about everything from cheap whiskey to cheap prostitutes can be found there. I couldn't prove it, but I also suspected MJ could be obtained there as well. God only knew what else was passed behind the closed doors of the rented rooms on the second floor.

That's where Dallas technically lives most of the time – a rented room on the second floor. Right from the get-go, he'd assured me he wasn't there for any of the extra's that existed downstairs; he was only there since his room was especially cheap to make up for the face that Buck didn't pay him a lot of money. That much I understood completely. He didn't have a home to live in like the rest of the gang. Even Steve with his sorry no-good excuse for a father, and Johnny with his constantly abusive parents had a place to call home.

While our home was far better than the rest of the guys had it, I still felt bad that no matter how hard I worked, I couldn't replace the feel of home my parents gave this place. With me working steady hours now at both jobs and Soda finally having his schedule smoothed out, it left all three of us little time to actually hang out as brothers. The few hours I had off, I took classes at the Y. It started with First Aid, figuring the way the gang liked to get cut and battered, I'd never be able to afford hauling them to the doctor for everything. Once that course was over, I signed up for Gymnastics. It gave me a deeply discounted membership to the gym and also taught me a few things about balance and coordination. Besides that, it really helped to blow off some steam.

Soda seemed interested, so I took good notes and before long, had him and Pony out in the yard doing flips and somersaults. Steve laughed at him a bit, but joined in when Soda dared him to do better. Johnny seemed game as well, and before long I had my own class of students. It was comical when I thought about it. While Tim had his band of thugs out ganging up on other miscreants of society, I had my brothers and our friends out doing back flips. I never suspected it would also land anyone in jail - until I got a call one early Sunday afternoon.

Pony and Johnny were off to church, Soda'd said he and Two-Bit were gonna go check out the new cars on the Chevrolet lot since they were closed and wouldn't be bothered with pesky salesmen telling them to leave. I didn't care, it was my only morning to relax, and I was bound and determined to do just that.

Until the phone rang.

"Yeah, hey uh, Darry.... it's Soda, could you, um, not blow a gasket about this, but come down to the police station with my paycheck.... it's in my dresser – top left drawer. I sort of … need it."

"Police station? What are you doing there? You get another parking ticket?"

A muffled noise followed, as if he'd covered the phone with his hand. "He wants to know what's going on. Think I should tell him?" I heard over the muted sounds.

From a distance and barely audible with the muffling, "You wanna lose your hearing now and give him a few minutes to cool off on his way, or let him blow up when he shows? It's up to you, buddy."

"Yeah, I see your point." By then, my blood was already boiling. What had Doofus-One and Doofus-Two done now? This was obviously worse than a ticket. The line cleared. "We uh, sort of got hauled in for um.... disturbing the peace."

"You_ what?_" I yelled.

"Wow, I heard that all the way over here!" Two-Bit said from somewhere in the distance on the other end of the line.

"Darry, now... calm down. See, Two-Bit and I..."

"Shut it, Sodapop. I'm on my way." I hung the phone up, nearly tearing it off the wall in the process. I found his check, grabbed my wallet and keys, and headed out. The precinct was twenty minutes out, so the rage I felt had cooled to a simmer by the time I got there. I glared at them both, Two-Bit having the decency to not laugh while Soda stood there, hands hanging out of the cell looking as embarrassed as he could. Seeing him there, however, made my stomach jump. Never in my life had I envisioned either of my brothers behind bars.

"He and his buddy were disturbing the peace, apparently..." the cop handling his paperwork picked up the citation and read the report, looking like he wanted to laugh but didn't. "... doing 'cartwheels, flips and handstands, causing several pedestrians to alter their right-of-way on the sidewalk.'" He put the citation down and looked at me. "It's a petty offense infraction. No court involved. Only a fine or a night in lock-up. What's your pleasure?"

I looked at Soda. His head sunk into his shoulders looking like a turtle trying to hide in it's shell. I knew I wasn't going to leave him here; I just hoped he'd learned his lesson.

"Pay the fine. How much?" He told me, I paid and sprung the jailbirds.

"Freedom! Oh sweet freedom!" Two-Bit sang from the bed of my truck as I hauled them both home.

"Thanks, Darry," Soda mumbled. At least he seemed to take this seriously. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"You'd better be, Sodapop. Cause I ain't bailing you out again."

He nodded, understanding that I was as serious as a heart attack. I hoped social services doesn't hear about this. I didn't need more trouble.

Spring fever wasn't leaving Ponyboy out of the bedlam. As the weeks went by, he became more rebellious and rushed through his homework, spending less time on his studies so he could go meander around town longer, usually with Johnny and Dallas. It was becoming the source of contention between us, and it seemed every day it was the same old argument.

Soda kept telling me that this small rift obviously growing between Pony and myself would only worsen unless I did something about it. I, however, felt this was a two-way street, and that Ponyboy was doing just as much to get on my nerves as I was his. He never rolled his eyes at our parents when either of them asked if his homework was done, or backtalked when they set his curfew on school nights, or insisted on rooms being cleaned before heading out to the movies. He never understood that I was trying to help him, not hinder him. With all the arguing, it left very little time for fun.

Despite his acting like a pain in my ass at times, I was really proud of him. Aside from being exceptionally smart, he seemed just as gifted on the field as well. Not only did he get on the track team, he excelled at it. In no time at all, he found himself placed among the schools best runners, and already several small trophies adorned our mantle.

I tried to go to his meets, but usually my work obligations kept me from it. Soda went, usually dragging Steve along as Steve never wanted to clue Pony in as to how much he really was impressed by Pony's talents. Johnny came along too, not wanting to be left out; and if Kathy was on the rag, Two-Bit would be there as well, whooping it up - embarrassing everyone but himself. Dallas was iffy on whether he'd show or not. He could lone it as well as join in. I seemed to be the only standout, but I was sure he understood why. It wasn't like I didn't care, I just had to work.

One person who I knew understood was Tim. His parents were still around, but that was it. I doubted they even knew Tim was leader of a thick bunch of hoods that loved getting into trouble, who did his bidding almost obligingly. They also were oblivious – or perhaps apathetic - to their other children as well.

His brother, Curly, is a Tim-wanna-be. A fifteen year old kid with – from what I could tell – a prison outfit with his number on it in his future, unless he suddenly obtained some sense and got his life in order. He liked to one-up whatever Tim did. So, if Tim stole a pack of smokes from a store, Curly would show up with a carton. If Tim let the air out of someone's tires, Curly would slash them with his knife. He wasn't smart like Tim and usually got caught and sent to juvenile hall for a while. He thought it was beefing up his rep. All it was doing was showing how stupid the kid really was. And sadly enough, Ponyboy hung out with him sometimes.

Their sister, on the other hand, was a conniving deviant. She read people and used them to her advantage. Thankfully, Soda had zero interest in her, and Pony wasn't interested in _any_ girls … yet. I hoped by the time he was, he'd have sense enough to see her for what she was and steer clear.

The only person that could rein them in was Tim. Well, at least he tried. Neither of his siblings were brainiacs.

And at times, even Ponyboy wasn't so smart either.

"How's it going, Curtis?" Tim's droll voice surprised me. I was in my shed, looking for the reciprocating saw that I hadn't seen in months when he showed up one day.

"Hey Tim. What brings you over?"

He gave me a smirk of sorts, shifting his weight. "I was in the neighborhood. Heard you were busy."

One thing was certain, Tim kept up with everything going on, regardless of town boundaries - courtesy of his boys.

"Yeah, I'm busy. Working. I didn't realize how much it took to keep a simple household going."

"Life ain't fair, that's for sure. Seems you got a handle on it though."

If only he knew how slippery that handle was. Still, I liked it better when Tim didn't know all my business. I found the saw and headed inside.

"Come in, have some coffee. How's your side of town hanging?"

"It's got it's moments." We went in, Tim heading off to the kitchen while I went to the back for a second. I heard other voices lofting through and guessed Curly was here too. I'd wondered what stunk.

"What the hell are you two idiots doing?"

_Great, now what?_

"I swear, I've seen some stupid stunts in my day, but I thought you had some brains in you kid! If you ever do anything as lame as this again, I'll personally kill you both!"

"What's going on now?" I asked, looking in the kitchen to see Ponyboy and Curly each being firmly held by their shirt collars in front of the sink by Tim, their hands extended under the tap.

"Just the two knuckleheads here branding each other." Tim scowled.

_Huh?_ I took a look, seeing the red burn mark on Pony's finger. "What the heck got into you? Really, Ponyboy, ain't you got any sense?" I pulled down the medicated cream and a bandaid, hoping his hand wasn't going to be infected. It looked bad to me, seared at least two shades of red already. He said nothing, knowing along with his finger, his goose was cooked as well. When I was done with him, he flopped down on the couch and picked up a book from the table. I turned to Tim. "You want his finger fixed too?"

"Hell no. Maybe an infection and a good scar would do him some good. Come on, Curly. Later Curtis."

"Bye Tim." I waited until they left. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Ponyboy looked up from his book. "I'm sorry, Darry. It was just a game of chicken."

"Real smart, kid. I thought you would know better than to go burning holes into your flesh. Didn't that, perchance,_ hurt_?"

"Yeah. Some."

I could feel my blood pressure rising and gripped the edge of the counter top with my nails. "Then didn't that,_ perchance,_ tell you that was a stupid thing to do, and to quit?"

"I'd have lost the game." He answered simply. I could feel my pulse beating in my eyes now.

"Don't ever do anything that stupid again. And if Curly suggests something, think twice... no.. think _three _times on it before you act! And if it involves any type of bodily harm, tattooing, or anything else that may alter your appearance … ask me or Sodapop first." I got up, putting the bandaids and cream away. I swear, Ponyboy's going to give me an ulcer before too long.

He just sat there, reading his book with his eyes fixed on the page. I gave up and went back to fixing the beam in the attic with the newly found saw. Later, after I was done, Sodapop and Steve showed up, their girls in tow.

"Hey Darry, me and Steve are going out to the movies."

I noticed Pony looked up from his book then, the first movement he'd made since semi-ignoring me earlier. "Whacha gonna see?" I doubt he noticed the suspicious grins on the girls faces.

"Movie ain't for you, kid." Steve grumbled.

"We haven't decided on that yet, Pone." Soda amended.

"Well is it the Double or the cinema? I know what's playing at both..."

"Drop it, kid. You ain't going." Steve insisted a little louder. Ponyboy backed off, opening his book again.

"You know your curfew. Afternoon, Sandy. Sodapop, come here a minute."

"Yeah?" he asked softly after he joined me in the kitchen.

"You ain't going to be doing what I think you're gonna be doing, are you?"

He turned a shade redder than he was before, telling me more than I needed to know. "You better be using your brain about this, buck-o. I hope you're being careful." I whispered with disdain.

"I am!" he insisted, nearly hissing. "Do we have to talk about this now? Jesus, Darry, I've been going out with her for over a year now. You already know what we're doing." He turned and looked at Sandy, rocking a bit on his heals. The girls were getting nervous, Steve was standing in the doorway, trying to urge me to let Soda go.

"Fine. You be careful, and be home by curfew. Not one minute later. And this discussion ain't over, either, Sodapop."

He grabbed his jacket and took Sandy by the hand, following Steve and Evie out the door. From the couch, he watched them leave. "You wanna go play some football?" I asked.

He absentmindedly held his burned finger up off the book as if he were using it to count with. "No. I, uh, I got homework." He got up and headed to his room. I heard his radio get flipped on and the bedsprings creak. Shaking my head, I went back outside in search of other things to fix.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

A/N Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah.


	11. I wondered if they'd noticed he was gone

**From The Beginning**

Chapter 11

**I wondered if they'd noticed he was gone.**

XXX

Work was merciless. Spring has always been the busy season for building, and this year is no exception. New houses were going up all over the suburbs outside of Tulsa, and my boss had contracts for several of them. And while the money was great, it meant I was at home even less. To try to make up for lost home time, I cut back on some warehouse hours. Billy tried to give me a raise, enticing me to stay on my three night a week schedule, but I physically couldn't do it. My back hurt, my knees hurt.... I was starting to really understand why people didn't stay in this job for long. It wreaked havoc on your body.

"Hey, I'm home." The usual bunch of misfits were bumming around my table, cards in hand. Soda was scarfing a sandwich while Two-Bit stole some of his chips, Steve was trying to get a card out of his shoe without being seen but Dallas had already clued in and was kicking his foot. I was sure they would be fighting soon. "Take it outside, both of you. I'm running out of lamps." I said without conviction, taking my toolbelt to my room. I heard a scuffle, some cursing, the furniture scraping against the floor, and a door slam. When I went to look, they were outside, duking it out. Neither would win, I was certain of that. Steve was stronger, but Dallas more cunning. Besides, neither really wanted to hurt each other. Not really. Their blades remained safely in their back pockets.

Pony and Johnny were settled on the couch, checker board set up.

"You have a good day?" I asked him.

He looked up and shrugged. "Guess so. We're going over the Periodic Table now in science."

I remembered those days. Back then, trying to memorize the elements seemed the hardest thing in the world. "Get your homework done?"

"Yeah. It's on my bed. You ain't got to look over it, I know you're tired."

"I can still manage to check your work. Hey Johnny... you can jump him over on the left."

Pony scowled, Johnny grinned and I headed off to take a shower.

X

The warming weather was bringing everyone outdoors. Greasers were finding new, creative ways to get into trouble – like spray painting water towers, drag racing any stretch of road, and finding the occasional Mexican to jump; all of it just for kicks. The East side wasn't alone. Over on the West side, Socials were also headed outdoors. They, however, got their kicks usually by making greaser lives miserable; any way they could. Trouble was increasing along with the mercury, and no one was immune.

"Ahh, shit. Where's my beer?"

"Stop yammering on, Two-Bit. I can't stitch this if you don't hold still."

Two-Bit was plastered, which was probably a good thing. For once, his mouth got away from him at the wrong place and time, and a soc decided to shut him up by busting a bottle over his head. I doubt he even felt it, considering how badly he reeked.

"Where'd you guys find him?" I asked, looking up at Steve and Tim.

"Out behind Spencer's Special. The joker's whaling him took off when we came around."

"Soc's?"

"Naturally." Tim nodded. I shook my head. They were getting more brazen now, crawling deeper in our turf even in daylight. Spring brings out the idiot in all of us.

"That _hurts_, Darry! You'd not make a good steamstress. Better stick to roofing."

I looked at him, bored but not the least offended. "I haven't even tried to sew you up yet, the word is _seam_stress - but if you're referring to a guy, it would be either a seamster or a tailor; and_ no,_ I wouldn't. Now stop moving around so I can stitch your head."

"Now, see.... that's just too much useless information. Make life simple..."

"Two-Bit!" I called, my patience wearing thin.

"Huh?"

"Shut up."

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

He swayed slowly on my couch, but not so badly that I couldn't close the cut. Tim gave me a nod and left, Steve sauntered back to garage to find Sodapop. A couple stitches later and I was done; Two-Bit, out. He'd either passed out or fallen asleep. Either way, he had finally stopped complaining. I put the stuff away and looked at the clock. Pony was late. Having one grease laid out on my couch was worrisome enough. I wouldn't feel better until he came home.

It took another hour, but he finally came up the walk. Him and Johnny were happily shoving each other along, Pony's face all pink and somewhat breathless.

"Took two seconds off my time. Not bad, huh?" he stuttered when he was inside, eyes shining.

"You should have seem him!" Johnny agreed.

"I didn't know you had practice." I commented.

"Well, I didn't. Not official practice. Coach asked me to hang out and run some laps, so I did. Why? What did I miss?"

"You should have called." I said sharply. I didn't know where those soc's were that had jumped Two-Bit and I didn't want them getting their hands on Pony too.

He gave me a doubtful look but didn't talk back.

"Hey, kid!" Two-Bit said, sitting up again. It was the first movement he'd made since I finished his head. He was somewhat sober again, as sober as he could be after an hour of sleep. At least he could process the pain his head was feeling - inside and out. He held his hand over where I'd stitched, a wince scrunching his eyes shut.

"Glory, Two-Bit, what happened to you?" Johnny asked.

"Oh.. nothing, kid. Just... might I suggest neither of you go out alone too far from home. Seems the riffraff from the uppity side of town are prowling like alleycats."

I handed him some Tylenol and water, which as soon as he swallowed, made a face and handed me back the cup. "What_ is _this!"

"It's called water. You know... the less addictive kind of drink. You might want to lay off the bottle. You're killing your liver."

"No lectures, please." He tried to stand but must have changed his mind as he sat down again. I hoped he wouldn't puke.

XXX

The sun had barely broken the horizon, but I was already awake. The house was still, it was just me awake. I peeked in on the guys; both out still, each turned away from the other. Soda lay stretched out on his stomach, his arm hanging off the bed while Pony lay somewhat curled in a ball. Sneaking over, I had a plan.

"Ah HAH! Got you now!" Tickle fest was on! Since the time he was a baby, I'd known where all his tickle-sensitive spots were, and went for them. It was sort of fun, torturing him like this. Soda woke up and joined in, the peals of laughter bouncing around the room.

In between his torquing about, slapping my hands while trying to get free, his pleas for us to quit went largely ignored. He giggled and screamed in laughter, begging me to stop. Finally I did, knowing he'd probably pee the bed if I didn't let up.

"Alright, enough! You guys getting up now, or what?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're up." Soda answered happily as he headed down the hall. Pony was grinning too, but he was crouching by the headboard, expecting me to go at him again. I didn't.

"Good. Eggs and bacon will be ready soon. Up and at 'em!"

"We playing football later?" Soda yelled out from the bathroom where he'd forgotten to shut the door.

I glanced over, shaking my head. Mom would have a fit if she saw how the manners she worked so hard to instill in us had gone right out the window since December. We were all treating the house like some guys locker room in the mornings, leaving the bathroom door cracked open and wandering around the place shirtless. Sometimes even pantless.

"Yeah, provided the guys want to play. How bout it, Pone? You game?"

"Sure."

XXX

"Hey Sodapop." He was outside smoking on the porch when I came in. The sun had set not long ago and the light was fading away rapidly. "What's got your briefs in a bunch?"

"Huh?"

I gave him a look, pulled the cigarette out from between his fingers and crushed it under my boot. "What's wrong?"

His eyebrows furrowed, his hands wringing together. I waited, truly intrigued as to what could make the never-serious Sodapop so … serious!

"Sandy ditched on our date tonight."

I wanted to laugh. _This_ was the tragedy of the century? Please! I sat down next to him on the step. "So? Ain't like she hasn't called off before. Aside from the obvious, was there anything special you were planning on doing tonight?"

He gave me a tell-tale look, waited half a second then brushed fresh grass clippings off his shoe.

"No, not really. Just go out to the lake and walk around. There's some geese or ducks out there that had hatched, thought she'd like to go look at them. I can't figure why she ditched."

"Maybe she's on the rag. You know how girls get when that happens. Whiny and bitchy. Consider yourself lucky! There's always tomorrow. Or the day after." I nudged his shoulder, grinning a bit, hoping to coax a smile from him too.

"But her period was _last_ week..." Soda said aloud, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.

I got up to head inside, tired and achy all over. "Don't sweat it. Call up Steve and the two of you head over to the races for a bit. There's always a car there that needs someone to look at it."

"Yeah, maybe," he said. His heart wasn't in it though.

X

The DX was ahead, which was good because I doubted my truck could go another mile. I'd sweated the whole way home, certain it'd run out of gas before I made it. I pulled in just in time. It sputtered and died at the pump. Looking up, I saw Steve with his stupid know-it-all grin shaking his head at me from one of the service bays. Under the hood, Soda looked up and jabbed Pony, who also looked. Great. Now I was a show stopper.

"So, what'll it be?" Steve came sauntering up.

"Shut up and turn on the pump." I climbed out, getting the nozzle off the pump and sticking it in my tank. He laughed but hit the switch. Normally, one of the employees were supposed to fill up the cars, but he knew better than to insist on it with me.

Pony and Soda came over, their hands both blackened with grease.

"That ain't one of your school shirts, is it?"

He looked down, realizing what he had now ruined and tried to look sheepish. "I guess I forgot to change it. Sorry, Darry."

I sighed. The only good thing about him being the youngest was Soda and I could both pass down clothes to him. Just about the only new stuff he got with any regularity were shoes and underwear.

"What are you doing here anyway? Ain't you got homework?"

He turned his head, trying to hide his eyes that were rolling in his head. "I finished it already. I was thirsty and wanted some pop."

"And the grease?"

He looked at his hands, shrugging. "Soda and Steve let me help mess around under the hood."

I looked at Soda. "It was just a tune up, Darry. I ain't having him rebuild a transmission."

I took a breath, trying to remember this is what I myself used to do back before life got in the way.

"You working at the warehouse tonight, Dar?" Soda asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah. Won't go in until nine though. What time are you getting off?"

"After six."

The nozzle shut off and I put the pump back up. Handing Steve the money, I climbed back in. "I'll have dinner ready by then. Ponyboy, don't be in the way."

"He'll be fine, Dar. We're watching him, quit worrying."

"Bye." If nothing else, having the house to myself would allow me a few hours of quiet. Once at the house, I took out a package of Salisbury Steaks, cut up some potatoes to boil and found a few corn cobs to roast in the oven. With dinner cooking, I sat back in my chair, ignored the stack of bills on the counter and opted to read my newspaper.

X

So far, I'd done three laps around the house, washed the dishes, and idled through all the channels on the TV; a nagging feeling like something was wrong building up, making me restless. I couldn't place why... I just _knew_. I felt it. Like when a storms approaching but the sky is still blue. It made me jumpy, my skin crawling. It was half past six, the guys should be home any time. Dinner had been ready for a long while – I'd shoved everything in the still-warm oven to keep it hot. It didn't make sense; Soda would have called if there was a problem – I couldn't fathom why they would be late - or why I would be so jittery like this.

I headed outside to look down the street, hoping I could catch a glimpse of them loping up the walk. Way out by the main road, I could see the lot where we hung out at sometimes. It belonged to the city but was rarely kept up. If anything, we did the city a favor by picking up the trash that managed to get tossed in it. Grass and weeds grew everywhere, but with all our escapades in it, nothing ever grew very tall.

It was used for nearly every purpose I could think of. Pony and Johnny hung out there, the whole gang used it for quick games of football, and when the weather was just right.... we'd move our bull session outdoors and roast marshmallows over a small fire. There were some trees on the far side of the lot, and Pony loves to climb up in them, always trying to get higher. I swear.. one day he's gonna fall out and break something, and won't nobody know about it until we realize he's missing and go hunt him down.

It was that area of the lot that my eyes concentrated on. Squinting, I could make out Steve's shape; and concentrating harder, I recognized the DX shirts both he and Soda were wearing. Only, they weren't headed in the direction of home; they were instead running across the lot, chasing...._ something_. Whatever it was, Soda stopped and bent down, suddenly out of sight, while Ponyboy – who had been right behind him suddenly did a 180 and covered his mouth with one hand, his other curling around his stomach. Steve had pulled up too, bending over to get a better look.

I was already running towards them by that time. Nothing was that interesting in the lot, and whatever it was was making Pony turn pale white. With galloping strides I hadn't made since high school football, I reached the lot just in time to see Two-Bit coming in hard from my left, Dallas on my right. His menacing look evaporated for a fraction of a second, then his eyes went cold just as he – like Ponyboy, paled.

And I understood why.

Johnny, cradled safely now in Soda's arms, had been jumped._ Badly_. They – by the looks of him there had to have been more than one - took no mercy on him. His face was sliced across his cheekbone, his left eye swollen shut and his lip split. His arms lay stiff against his side, I could imagine his side hurt like hell. I hoped he didn't have any busted ribs. His white top was torn and bloodied, purplish welts lay halfway hidden behind shards of fabric.

"Johnny?" Soda cooed softly, "Hey Johnnycake."

I held my breath, wondering how badly he was hurt. A second later, Johnny finally held his grip on consciousness and mumbled out....

"Soda?"

"Yeah, it's me. Don't talk, you're gonna be okay."

… And I could breathe again. He was weak, he was pained, but he was alive. I felt myself shaking inside, wondering who..._ who_ could do this ... to a_ kid_? Johnny wasn't any real threat to anyone, I know better than to think he was causing trouble. But, it also made sense – a sick kind of sense. They did this because he_ is_ so nonthreatening. It made me want to vomit... this was done for_ kicks_. And in sight of my house, no less. The only person I knew who was less of a threat was standing right next to me, so pale I though he would pass out. I put my hand on his shoulder, feeling him, wanting him to know I was there. Pony's eyes locked with mine a moment, then turned back to Johnny.

Johnny was telling us about what happened, sobbing openly through his story. He's an amazingly strong kid... taking constant abuse from his parents nearly every day yet never seemingly despondent over it. This, however, was more than even he could take. An outsider - a Soc - had hurt him, in nearly every way possible, threatening him with every sick type of abuse imaginable. Sodapop just held and rocked him, letting him unbottle all the grief and pain and fear that had been pent up inside him for so long. When the sobbing subsided and he grew quiet again, we carefully helped him to his feet, leading him to my place.

He stayed laid out on my couch for almost twenty solid hours straight, barely moving; then gingerly got up to shower and eat some. For three days he stayed in my house; recuperating. The whole gang – everyone - came to check up on him. Everyone but his parents.

I wondered if they'd even noticed he was gone.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

Portions of_ The Outsiders_ used without permission. I hope I don't go to jail for it.


	12. That didn't stop trouble from following

**From The Beginning**

Chapter 12

**That didn't stop trouble from following him around.**

XXX

"You taking tomorrow off, Dar?" Soda'd asked as he looked around for his shoes. I could tell he'd waited all day to ask, waiting for Pony and Johnny to head out to the matinee first as if his birthday was some sort of secret he wasn't aware of. Soda always got off on any reason to celebrate.

"Can't. But we're knocking off early, what with the heat. You?"

He nodded. "Yep. I tried to get out of it, but Pete's pretty stubborn. He ain't getting up early for nothing. As soon as he comes in I'll be leaving. I'll definitely be home by noon."

I was expecting noon to be my break-away time as well. The sun overhead in this July heat had already sent two guys tumbling off roofs this week. Mr. Campbell was getting concerned we'd all end up with heatstroke. "Good. If you make it in before I do, take the ribs out and thaw them. I'm making the cake, so don't bother."

He laughed. "What? I can't make him a cake? He _loves_ my cakes!"

"Yeah, and the rest of us love going into a sugar-induced coma. Nup, buddy.... I'm making the cake. You can do the ribs - and the coleslaw. He likes your coleslaw." We all did. I'd yet to figure out what he does to it, but it was better than any store-bought stuff and way better than mine. The recipe was all in his head too, never written down.

"Yep, no doubt about it... if I ever give up the wonderful world of auto-repair, I'll think I'll be a chef! Waddya think?"

I gave him my tired look. "You gotta go to college to be a chef, unless you wanna flip burgers over at the golden arches. That doesn't take any education."

He shook his head. "Nah... college is for those who need to _learn_ the trade. I have _natural_ skill!" My tired look turned to a simple wordless sarcastic shake of my head. "Okay, I think I got everything. I gotta go in for a bit, so I'll see ya tonight." He finally had on his shoes, grabbed his cap and left.

XXX

I made it in just in time. The general sounds of a ruckus were coming from my backyard, and looking out the back door I could see why. Johnny and Two-Bit were each armed with a garden hose, a soaked- to- the- bone Ponyboy running around between them. Over at the grill, Soda stood sergeant over the flaming coals while Steve and Dally stood around him, talking and laughing. I went ahead and made the cake before being noticed, hoping it cooled in time.

"Hey Dar! Didn't hear you come in. I got the ribs almost done." Soda said, stumbling to the fridge to get a Mt. Dew.

"I saw. They smell good." I watched Pony a moment, getting hit with the spray hard. It would probably leave a red mark considering they were using the hoses at full blast. "He's finally fourteen," I said aloud to myself. Soda thought I was talking to him.

"You didn't think he'd stay a kid forever, now did ya?" He chucked my shoulder and I grinned, coming out of my daze.

"Fourteen ain't much older than thirteen." I mumbled, realizing I wasn't making much sense to Soda, but I understood my meaning completely. He was still a kid, thirteen or fourteen... didn't matter.

"Don't tell him that. He hates being the youngest."

Laughter and footsteps thundering up the back steps got our attention. "Oh hey, Darry! Didn't know you were home." Pony stood dripping just inside the kitchen, his green eyes glowing in delight. Grass and mud clung to his wet skin and clothes, his hair a soggy mess.

"Yeah, I'm home. Go take a shower, you're filthy!" I teased. "When you get done, we'll eat. Happy birthday, kiddo."

He grinned and went past me, leaving a water trail of drips through the house. I'd looked all week for a gift to get him, but was having no luck. I'd settled on used copies of _The Adventures Of Tom Sawyer_ and _To Kill A Mockingbird,_ both in near perfect condition. I didn't think he had those but to be honest, I really couldn't tell. He had books galore all over his room. If nothing else, at least I could give him a good day. Those were rare for him, but he actually seemed to be enjoying himself. That was gift enough; for him and me both.

XXX

"_NO! Don't! Ple—ase!" _

I tumbled out of bed, the familiarity of the voice not hitting me until I was down the hall. _Ponyboy_. I opened their door - Soda already soothing him, his arms wrapped around Pony holding him tightly to his chest. Pony's own heaved with harsh breaths, Soda shot me a worried look. I went and sat next to him, feeling his forehead then clapped his shoulder.

"You okay, little man?"

He nodded his head, slightly at first, then more firmly. He was awake now, the nightmare over. When they would_ end,_ I never knew.

XXX

"Afternoon, Mr. Curtis. I'm from the Department of Family Services, here to do an inspection."

The primly dressed woman in her tight beehive hairdo and cateye glasses, clipboard firmly in her hand was waiting for me to move, except I was hesitant to do so. This was one of those surprise inspections, one I was definitely surprised by and not in the mood for either. The August heat had already scorched my tolerance- to- stress level to an all-time low.

Behind me, I heard the scurrying of feet. Aside from the typical mess laying around, I knew what was in my fridge. I hoped to high heaven Two-Bit got his beer out of my fridge and out the back door in time.

"Can you give me just one moment, please? One of my brothers is in the shower, I'd like to let him know you're here first." I was going for any stall measure I could think of. She, however, must have heard that before.

"Mr. Curtis, are you unprepared for an inspection?" She asked, pulling her clipboard in front of her to write something down.

"No, well.... yeah, the house is a bit messy, but if you'd rather see my sixteen year old brother traipsing back to his room with little more than a towel, then come in, please!" I held the door open for her, the bathroom door slightly open and steam billowing out. I watched her gulp and hesitate, paling some.

"No, that's alright. Go let him know I'm here, I can wait one more moment." She stepped back, turning away from the door. It gave me the two minutes I needed.

"Soda!" I hissed into the bathroom. Soda pulled the curtain back.

"Yeah?"

"Hurry up, Social worker's here for an inspection. Get out, dry off and get dressed. Try to toss all yours and Pony's clothes you guys got on the floor into a basket. Hurry up!"

"Shit! I'm on it."

While he was busy finishing up, Two-Bit was already three steps ahead of me, getting his beer and hopping the back fence. Relieved I now only had a messy house to present, I opened the front door again, letting her in.

"Thank you," she said. She looked around the house, coats covered the couch, discarded shoes everywhere. My newspaper lay in unkempt sections on the floor next to my chair. On the coffee table were the bits and pieces of some engine part Soda had been working on. In the kitchen, the dishes lay in a dirty heap waiting for Soda or Pony to wash.

Neither had wanted to do them. Soda was heading out on a date with Sandy, and Ponyboy begged to go see some movie - they had been flipping coins all day over who's turn it was. Technically, I knew it was Soda's, but he had goaded Ponyboy into doing them when he got back from the movies. My nervous glances at the clock did little to settle my nerves. Ponyboy was due back any time now, which, while it wouldn't get the dishes done any faster, I didn't need the state telling me my fourteen year old brother was too young to go traipsing off to the movies without holding my hand.

So.. there the dishes sat, waiting. And just like in the kitchen and living room, in_ every _room of the house lay a mess waiting on someone to clean it. I didn't think anything of it until now, when I saw my house as some stranger would see it.... as the DFS worker would see it, and knew it wasn't good.

Soda came out, dressed in his good jeans and a button shirt, wet hair curling behind his ears; nervously looking between her and me.

"Ah... and this is....." She checked her notes, trying to figure it out.

"Sodapop, ma'am. Sorry bout the shower... I didn't know you were coming."

"Sodapop. And, no, you weren't supposed to know I was coming. That's the nature of surprise visits. So, how have you been?" She had wandered into the kitchen now, asking questions absentmindedly while opening cabinets and checking the fridge.

"Um, fine." Soda shot me worried glances, I answered with a slight shake of my head.

"And where is....?" She looked at her notes again, either not finding his name or not wanting to say it. Sodapop spared her, I wouldn't have.

"Ponyboy?" he asked, as if someone else was supposed to live here.

"Yes, thank you. Ponyboy. Where is he today?"

"He's out with some friends. I expect him home within the hour." I answered firmly.

"Good, good. I wish I could see him – just for a moment. Can you get him for me?" It didn't sound like a request, more like a demand. Still, obviously, I couldn't. I was _expecting_ him to be home, but that was no guarantee he would _be_ home. The "hour" was a rouse, showing I did set deadlines. However, he was off with Johnny and theoretically could be gone until eight tonight.

"Sorry, like I said, he's off with some friends to the movies. You weren't expected, so I didn't see any reason to keep him cooped up all day. However, I can offer to either call your office when he returns, or bring him by your office in the morning."

Her lips pursed into a straight line and her eyes set. "Fine, I suppose that's also an unfortunate result of surprise visits. I'll check the rest of the house then." She meandered down the hall while Soda sidled next to me.

"We gonna be in trouble about this?" he whispered so low I was surprised I'd heard him. I shrugged, worried – sure, but helpless to do anything about it. Suddenly out in front of the house was the squealing of brakes and the slam of a car door. In rushed Ponyboy, breathless, eyes darting everywhere.

"I thought you were...." I started.

"Two-Bit found me. She still...."

"Ah, I see the family resemblance. You_ must _be Ponyboy." She announced as she came back from the bedroom areas. In the back of my head, I hoped they'd at least put their underwear up. They were getting lazy with putting their freshly washed clothes away, leaving it to sit on top of their dresser.

"Yes ma'am." He answered, stepping closer to me while slouching and hooking his thumbs in his back pockets.

"What movie did you go see?"

It surprised me when he muttered, "_Mary Poppins_. It's a rerun, but they're playing all sorts of reruns downtown this week." He looked her straight in the eyes, not blinking. I knew him well enough, he was lying. I wondered what he really saw.

She smiled though, obviously buying it. "Sounds like a fun afternoon. Okay then, I think that's everything. Mr. Curtis, I'll have my report to your social worker by Thursday. You boys have a good afternoon."

I nodded and opened the door, letting her out. No one moved until her car pulled away.

"_Mary_ Poppins?" Soda nearly laughed, shoving Pony backwards.

Pony shrugged with an embarrassed grin. "No, we really went to see _To Kill A Mockingbird_ since Darry'd bought me the book last month, but I thought_ Mary Poppins_ would keep her off my case."

"Smart thinking, Pone," I grinned. "Where'd Two-Bit find you?"

"At the malt shop. He came running in, said I had to go. Considering he don't get serious all that often, Johnny and me left our shakes and jumped in his car. He explained what was going down on the way. How'd it go?"

"Considering the place is a mess, it was a good thing you showed up. Now, _you_," I said, pointing at Ponyboy, "...do the dishes, and _you_," Soda's turn, "...get out of here. Sandy's coming up the walkway. Be home by eleven." Pony slinked off to the kitchen while Soda ran to the bathroom, reappearing a moment later with his hair slicked back.

"Hey, Darry." Sandy said politely after I let her in.

"Afternoon, Sandy," I answered. She looked at Soda with a blush on her cheeks, he took her hand and out the door they went.

XXX

"Ponyboy, you got.... Pony?" He wasn't in his room, wasn't anywhere in the house. Groan! Now where'd he run off to?

"Either of you two seen Ponyboy?"

Steve paused in his "flip the popcorn into his mouth" game and shook his head. "Nup."

"Last time I saw him was before the show. You'd sent him out with the trash." Soda reminded me as the TV droned on.

"Maybe the garbage man picked up the kid instead," laughed Steve, subsequently choking on an inhaled kernel. I slapped him on his back a bit harder than necessary and he shut up.

I looked out the window, seeing the lid haphazardly placed back on the can - that in itself giving me something new to grumble about. Dogs could easily get into that during the night, leaving me a mess to clean tomorrow. I went on out to set the lid right.

"Ponyboy!" I called loudly enough for him to hear me in a three house radius.

"Yeah?" His bored voice answered from my left. Once my eyes adjusted, I saw him laying on the ground using a discarded tire as a pillow, smoking and looking up at the sky. "You need something?"

"No, I don't _need_ anything, but you shouldn't be out here. What if I'd locked the door?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "You ain't locked that door in months. And if you had, I'd just get the spare key from the overhang. What's the deal? Why're you so mad at me all of a sudden?"

I walked over and copped a squat next to him. "I ain't mad, I'm just tired of you doing boneheaded stunts."

Even in the darkness I could see him roll his eyes. "What did I do wrong this time?"

"The lid goes _on_ the can, not _against_ it. You know that. Anyway, I was just wondering where you'd gone off to. I asked you to take out the trash over an hour ago, whacha been doing all this time?"

He took another drag on his smoke, looked up and pointed at something. "There's Cygnus, also known as the Northern Cross. And over there," he said, pointing in a different direction into the sky, "is Aquila. The Eagle. It's a clear night, you can see all the constellations."

Uh huh. Stars. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I hope you're not laying on an ant hill." I muttered. "You ready for school to start?"

He sat up, grinding out his smoke and brushed off the grass stuck to his arms.

"I guess so. Got my schedule already."

"I saw it. Looks like you're in many of the upper level classes. You know what that means."

He nodded. "I'll be hanging out with the social elite again. Yay. Wonder how many times I'm gonna 'accidentally' trip and fall down the stairwell _this_ year."

That wasn't what I was thinking, but looking at it from his perspective, he had a point. Life ain't all that great when your a smart greaser in a sea of older Soc's. Last year, he'd come home with fresh bruises every few weeks, being accidentally tripped down the stairs a few times more than conventional. And this year, Soda won't be there to watch his back. There was nothing any of us could do.

"Just do the best you can. You know where the guys are if you need them."

"Fat lotta good it's gonna do me, they're all the way over across campus." He got up, sending a shower of grass off his backside. He finished brushing it off and started in. I followed.

"Well, they can't all be as smart as you are." He gave me a look, so I tried another tactic. "You ain't weak, Ponyboy, I know that much. Defend yourself, just don't get caught. You don't want fighting on your school record."

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, I ain't going there to make trouble."

No, perhaps not. That didn't stop trouble from following him around.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	13. And I'd live with that mistake for the

**From the Beginning**

Chapter 13

**And I'd live with that mistake for the rest of my days.**

XXX

"Where've you been? I demanded. It was going on seven and Pony was just now traipsing home. The guys looked up, I guessed waiting for an answer as well.

I paused, realizing he looked .. bothered? ... concerned? Something wasn't right.

"Sorry. I guess I forgot to call."

"Forgot to call? What kind of lame excuse is that?"

"Darry, hold on a minute. Pony, where ya been?" I was annoyed that Soda had asked the same exact question I had, but would probably be getting an answer instead of an excuse.

"At the hospital..."

"Are you hurt?" I looked him over top to bottom in the span of time before he could answer, but I didn't see any reason for him to be at the hospital. He shook his head.

"No. Curly fell off a telephone pole. He was pretty high up, busted his arm all to pieces. He's still there, waiting for Tim to come get him."

"And what was he doing on a telephone pole?" Two-Bit ventured to ask.

"Bet me a nickel he could do it faster than I could. He was first one up. He was making good time until he missed the rung and fell."

"That'll teach him, provided he learns his lesson." Steve said dryly.

"That dummy ain't gonna learn shit." Dally said with a laid back grin. "Kid, I swear I don't know why you hang around him, he might be a grease, but he's out of your league. Tim's the only smart one in that family."

"I wouldn't exactly call the Shepard family smart, Dal." Two-Bit added. "Even Johnny here's got more sense than Curly!"

Johnny smiled appreciatively, but kept his comments to himself. We all knew how street wise Tim Shepard was.

"You don't need to be hanging around any of them." I corrected, my tone bitter. Tim was more my league. I could take him and we both knew the score. While Pony was becoming more street wise by the day, there were still many things he didn't know; things I didn't need Curly Shepard filling him in on either. That kind of knowledge would only get Ponyboy involved in stuff that would land him in jail or seriously hurt. "And I hope you learned why you don't go climbing telephone poles - or any other type of pole either, for that matter."

He nodded, still looking a little pale and bothered. I never could get inside his head - no matter how often I tried, he just wouldn't let me.

XXX

Shouts, accompanied by the squeal of brakes, got my attention. Looking up, I saw Ponyboy and Johnny coming up the sidewalk at a faster than normal pace. Johnny giving nervous glances over his shoulder, his hand on his back pocket. That in itself made me worry.

"What gives?" I asked when he and Johnny parted ways in front of my house.

He shrugged. "Just the soc's, no big deal."

"They follow you?"

"Not really. Just kept buzzing by us. They're gone now." He sidestepped around me, heading inside.

I gave the distant road another look and turned to follow him. "You got homework?"

He was in the kitchen drinking juice straight from the carton. He nodded his head as he swallowed a gulp. "Yeah, a little."

"Then go do it. And stop drinking from the jug, that's gross. No one wants to drink your spit."

"Sorry." He headed off to his room with his books, closing his door as usual.

XXX

Soda and Steve were hanging out, waiting until seven when they were supposed to pick up their girls for a double date. Their unconstrained energy was giving me a headache as they jabbed each other with fake swings and shoved each other all over the living room.

"Ahhh! Gotcha!" Steve screamed as he held Sodapop in a neck-hold.

"Not quite, you grease monkey!" Bellowed Soda as he flipped Steve over his shoulder. Steve landed hard but snarled his forearm back around Soda's head in a move I was starting to worry over.

"Hey, quit! Fine, fine, you win! Now leggo, you're gonna mess up my hair!"

"Wimp!" Steve declared as he let go of Soda' neck and stood with a stretch.

"Yeah, whatever. Just you wait till next time."

"Talk talk talk. Hey c'mon man, it's time to go. Don't want to leave the girls waiting!"

"I'm coming. Bye Darry!"

The door slammed and silence filled the house. _Finally!_ Now all I had to worry about was... everything.

I had a feeling I knew what Soda's plans were, and I hoped he remembered some very vital accessories. Not just remembered them, but _used_ them. He was tired of my nagging, I knew that, but I'd rather nag and have the message get through than have him regret his hormonal urgings later.

And _one_ day, I was going to have to worry about the same things with Ponyboy. The kid was more methodical than Soda, which worked in my favor. However, I wasn't sure when it would be that I'd need to sit him down and discuss this matter one-on-one with him. Unlike Soda and myself, he seems to be taking his sweet time maturing. Girls weren't the enemy -per se- to him anymore, but he still hadn't found them interesting enough to be curious yet. I knew that would change. Eventually.

XXX

"Bye Darrel."

I held my hand up as James drove past. It had been another long day up on the roof, the changing Fall weather making the middle of the day the most productive. It was coldest in the mornings when we started, but by ten we'd be shucking off jackets from the sun's heat radiating off the shingles. One of the guys had appointed himself the coat guy, picking up everyone's jackets and coats, tossing them in the back of his pickup for us to get before we headed home. And by the time we left for the day, the temperature would be chilly again.

While waiting for my truck to heat up, I looked at my paycheck. The bank would be closed, I'd have to deposit it tomorrow during my lunch break. It would be enough to pay the bills, with a few bucks left over to get Pony a new pair of shoes. His had a hole in the toe and I'm sure his feet were too big to fit them anymore, not that he'd ever complain. The internal temperature of the cab had warmed, I put it in gear and rolled off the lot, headed home.

X

I heard the thundering noises from inside the house while I was still at the curb, parking. The radio was at ear piercing levels, competing with the TV. I doubted anyone was even watching it, and grateful that the neighbors were too apathetic about us to care. Not that I worried, usually the drunken fights and screaming matches emanating from Johnny's house and other various neighbors were more interesting than just a bunch of teenage boys with a loud radio. Still, I turned it down as I entered. Otherwise, I'd have a screaming headache within the hour.

"Oh, hey Muscles. Didn't hear you come in." Two-Bit smiled in greeting.

"Hey Two-Bit. You cooking tonight?" He was stirring something in a pot, something chalky white but thick - like a paste almost. I didn't recognize what it could possibly be. And it certainly didn't smell all that great either.

"Nup. Just doing your youngest a favor. My they grow up so fast! Juuuussst yesterday...."

"Shut up. What the hell is that?" I was about to dip my finger in the pot to taste it, when he jerked the pot out of my reach.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. I've heard wax doesn't exactly go well with the human digestive system."

"Wax?" I looked again, closer this time. On the counter by the stove were the wrappers of at least a dozen candles. "What the hell is this shit?"

"Oh, Ponyboy!" he sing-songed. "Might I suggest you hurry up!"

"I'm hurrying! Is it ready yet?"

He looked at me, nodding. "Uh, yeah! In fact, I think it's about to boil over!"

Pony walked in just then. "Wax won't boil over... oh, hey Darry. Didn't hear you come in."

I was staring at the only good quart sauce pan I had left, ruined now by candle wax, too infuriated to form words. All I could do was watch as he poured the melted wax into molds made out of thin sections of discarded auto tubing and small Dixie cups the size of shot glasses.

"Ponyboy Michael Curtis, what the hell is this?" I seethed.

He looked at me after pouring everything and said so very calmly.... "Homework. I have to make something unique for chemistry class, so I thought I'd make the double helix thingy that was all the rage a few years ago. I went by the library and got a copy of that scientific journal,_ Nature_. That's where Watson and Crick published their article. It looked simple enough. Whacha think?"

He looked at me, pleased as punch with himself. His smile faded some when he saw my livid expression. I was so pissed, my eye twitched.

"You used our only good saucepan to melt _candles_ in? Were you_ thinking_ at all when you did that?"

Two-Bit, by this time, had backed out of the room. I knew that hood wasn't stupid afterall.

Pony paled. "I uh, I needed the wax. Don't worry, I'll wash it....."

"You can't wash wax out of a pot, Ponyboy!" I yelled. "It's ruined!"

He swallowed hard, having nothing to say. It was a staring contest for a nasty minute, then I took the destroyed pot and dumped it in the trash on my way to shower. I needed to get away from there, before I really went off the deep end.

While I lathered up, I thought back to all the boneheaded things I had done when I was younger - and there were many, _many_ things I regretted doing. By the time I had rinsed off, I knew he really didn't mean to ruin what was our last good quart pan. While the hot water faded from warm to cool, my temper had eased off considerably as well. I was still upset, but I could deal. And the helix thing probably _would_ look tuff, knowing how much work and detail he'd put into it. I shut off the tap, grabbed a towel and found my resolve again.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Soda was alone at the table. I held my towel and looked around. The house was dead silent.

"You just getting home?" I asked.

He shoved the last of his sandwich in his mouth, swigged some milk and nodded. "Bout ten minutes ago. I uh, sort of ran into Two-Bit on the way home. He filled me in, thought I'd better double time it."

_Well, don't that just make me feel better._ I slowly let out a deep breath. "Where is he?"

"Star gazing. You gonna yell at him anymore tonight?"

I shook my head, hating taking my medicine. "No. I'm not."

"Good. Try to remember - he's only fourteen. I know it's easy to forget that sometimes."

I rolled my eyes then nodded, hating being chastised by my sixteen year old brother - even when I deserved it. Soda said nothing more and I went to get dressed. After I pulled on my coat, I went and found Pony outside.

He was sitting on the ground with his arms around his legs, wearing only the thin shirt and jeans he'd worn to school earlier.

"That goose still up there?" I searched the sky, never seeing what he did but thought I'd better try a little harder.

He scrunched himself tighter, arms tightly hugging his legs. "You mean Cygnus, or Aquila?"

I tried to remember, but couldn't. I waited too long to answer, and he shrugged my question away.

"Don't worry about the pan, Ponyboy. I'll get another later. We'll be fine without it for a while. If we need to make gravy or heat up some soup, we can use something else."

Would it have killed me to say I was sorry? No. But still, I couldn't do it. I couldn't afford to look weak to him.

"That looks like it's gonna be one heck of a helix. Your teacher should be impressed." I tried again.

He shrugged and pulled out his pack of smokes from the waistband of his jeans, lighting up. "It's just some dumb project. Nothing more, nothing less." Smoke streamed from his lips as he spoke, then disappeared into the night air. All that remained was the smell.

"You caught up on your work now? Got all your assignments done?"

He cast me a suspicious glance then returned to gazing out into the stars. "Yeah."

"You wanna go hang out for a while before coming home tomorrow? The library should be getting a new shipment of books in, you can go have first dibs on the selection."

"Alone, or are you sending someone to babysit?" He flicked his ashes as he spoke that last word with venom in his tone.

I knew he was thinking I was going to go, but I couldn't. I wouldn't be off work in time. I_ was_ going to suggest one of the guys go with him, but two things made me change my mind. First, the way he said it told me he was tired of being treated like such a little kid when really he wasn't. And second, I knew none of the guys – with the possible exception of Johnny, liked hanging out in the library anyway.

"Naw, I think you can go alone. But don't pick out a book and start it there, I know what will happen. Hours will pass by before the librarian finds you and sends you home. So, how bout it?"

A small grin flickered on his face for a brief moment, then he nodded. "Sure. Sounds like fun."

Fun to him, dull to me. But this wasn't about me, it was about him. I offered my hand down to help him up, but he ignored it and got to his feet on his own, brushing off his pants as he stepped around me, heading inside.

That chasm that was dividing us was still growing, and nothing I did seemed to stop it.

XXX

I managed to get off work earlier than expected, something being delayed in the paperwork which sent everyone off the site. Mr. Campbell was upset, but it was all part of the business.

Making it home, I found Soda and Steve messing around in the shed. Steve's books lay in a heap by the door, he hadn't even gone to his own home yet. "You're home early. Whaddya do? Quit?" he asked me, a joking smile on his face.

"No, you moron. Sometimes shit happens, today it was in my favor. Paperwork delay. I'll go in to the warehouse tonight to make up for it, but I still have to go in tomorrow too."

"Hey, anyone home?" Johnny's voice called out.

"Back here." I called. A moment later, Johnny was in the doorway, looking around.

"Pony around?"

"Nope. I think he went to the library, should be home soon." I started, but Steve cut me off with a sarcastic laugh.

"Not likely. If he's in the library, he's gone until they close the place down."

"He'd better not be." I said with certainty.

Johnny looked like he was going to say something, then froze, getting that stressed, attentive look on his face. His eyes darted side to side but nothing else moved. I listened too, trying to figure it out.

Next thing I knew, we were all poised like that. It only lasted long enough for the sound to register. It was the unmistakable sound of Ponyboy, screaming for help. I heard my name being called along with Soda's, and knew if he was calling for both of us, something was seriously wrong. We were all running toward the direction the screams came from. In my peripheral vision, I saw blurry movement of Two-Bit, sailing in from the left while approaching from the right was another blur, one I hadn't seen in a while. Oh yeah, he'd been busted again. Dallas.

Ahead, hidden behind some vacant, boarded up house was a thick scuffle of guys. A red Corvair was idling nearby, doors open. Not ten feet away, a bunch of soc's were wailing away on Ponyboy. His screams were muffled, and for the most part, he was pinned down by the sheer weight and number of Soc's on him. However, he was still squirreling around, fighting to get away despite all the hits he was taking.

"Shut him up, for Pete's sake, shut him up!" the one practically sitting on his chest demanded as a cloth was shoved further in his mouth, silencing him. Were they trying to kill him?!

Soda screamed profanities I didn't know he knew, Steve bellowing his own similar demands. I was too busy yelling my own head off – lacing my words with a few colorful adjectives of my own to clearly hear what any of us were saying. Two of them looked up, diving back in the Corvair the moment they saw us, the rest of the Soc's following suit.

That's when I saw the blood on Pony's neck. My heart nearly stopped, skipping a beat until he pulled the gag from his mouth. I dove onto him, letting the rest of the gang deal with the Soc's. Soda and Two-Bit seemed livid enough to chase them all the way back to the West side, while I was so blinded by fury I'd probably kill someone by accident if I got my hands on any one of them.

I scooped him up under his armpits, dragging him to his feet. Luckily, his legs worked, knees locking into place as he stayed upright. I was shaking bad, seeing that cut so close to his carotid - thumping away at the side of his neck.

"Are you all right, Ponyboy?" I asked, shaking his shoulders some hoping he'd open his eyes and look at me. His eyes would tell me what I needed to know.

"I'm okay. Quit shaking me, Darry, I'm okay."

I let go. "I'm sorry." I hadn't realized how badly _I _was shaking - seeing him hurt like this - and jammed my hands in my pockets to still them. I still wasn't sure how badly he was hurt, but in that brief moment when I did see them, his eyes were focused.

I knew he was scared - he was as pale as a sheet and a pink tinge rimed his eyes. They'd scared him. Scared him bad. I wondered if this was what they'd done to Johnny, but we were lucky enough to stop it this time. _This_ time. Pony dropped back to the ground again, his hand rubbing against the redness on his face.

"They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?" I asked, worriedly looking him over. His hands shook as he swayed a bit, leaning heavily on his other arm, but he wouldn't look me in the eyes. His chin quivered. He was fighting it, but I knew he'd lose. The reason was obvious, but he wouldn't give in. Not yet.

"I'm okay."

Looking around, the guys were still chasing that Corvair halfway down the block but Soda had given up the chase was headed back, dropping to the ground by Pony checking him out for himself. I buckled down, getting a grip again on my own emotions before the rest of the guys arrived. Soda knew how to work Pony and before long, Pony was grinning again.

"You're crazy, Soda, out of your mind."

Unbelievable. Pony'd just gotten jumped and he was already laughing. Soda and his goofy personality could probably charm the devil.

"You're both nuts."

"It seems to run in this family." He shot back with a snarly grin. I had to grin myself. We were a wacked out bunch. Laughter came from the street, looking up, I saw the guys playfully shoving each other, obviously still on an adrenaline high.

"Didya catch 'em?" Pony asked when they gathered round.

"Nup. They got away ..." Two-Bit answered. I didn't pay attention, trying to figure out all this in my head. The library was only a few blocks away. What were the Soc's doing this far over in our turf? Nothing made sense until Pony'd mumbled something about coming home from the movies. Then _everything_ made sense.

The movie theater was in the center of town. Tulsa's own" Demilitarized Zone." Anyone was free game there; and if caught alone, you were left to the mercy of your own defenses. That's where Steve got in his fight where he had to use that bottle, that's where Two-Bit got sliced on his head. Pony knew better than to be there, or at least he_ should_ have. I'd told him enough times!

"... I didn't think..."

_That_ did it. "You don't ever think, not at home or anywhere when it counts. You must think at school, with all those good grades you bring home, and you've always got your nose in a book, but do you ever use your head for common sense? No sirree, bub. And if you did have to go by yourself, you should have carried a blade."

The guys were wordlessly staring at things around us, as if a boarded up house was somehow interesting. Pony kept his eyes fixed on something on the ground while Soda burned holes right through me with his eyes. I could tell I'd pissed him off, but I didn't care. I was responsible for both of them, and it was high time Ponyboy took some responsibility for his own actions - his own stupidity! This wouldn't have happened if he'd stayed on our side of town.

And as usual, Soda took up for him, telling me off while coddling Pony more than I liked. I let him have his say, then followed it up with my own, reminding him that despite his being older than Pony, I was still older than the both of them. It sort of shut everyone up which I was thankful for. I hated arguing. Yet it was all I ever seemed to do, besides work.

The guys, desperate for a change of subject, were making plans for tomorrow night as we walked back home. Dal put out an open invitation for the Double, but Soda and Steve were headed out on yet another double date and, tomorrow being a day that ended in a Y, Two-Bit was planning on drinking. That left Pony and Johnny, and throwing me a glance, I agreed to let them go. I didn't really want to, feeling like this escapade today should bear consequences, but caging him up in the house wouldn't solve anything either. Besides, as long as he stayed with Dallas and had Johnny for backup, I figured he was safe.

Dinner was strangely quiet that night. Soda yammered on about this car or that car, engines and transmissions. I tried to look interested, and while I understood what he was going on about, it wasn't my bag. I watched Pony out of the corner of my eye. He picked at his dinner then went to do the dishes without being asked. When that was done, he silently went to his room. On a few of my trips up and down the hall, I noticed he was totally engrossed in _Great Expectations._ The world could probably come to an end and he'd never know it until the last page was read.

"Well, I'm beat. I'm going to bed. Night Darry." Soda picked up his freshly folded laundry and started for the hallway.

"Hey Soda?" I whispered suddenly. He looked up and came closer.

"Yeah?"

"Can you … _talk ._.. to him? He'll listen to you. Nothing I say seems to matter."

Soda gave me that tired look, shifting on his feet. "_You_ need to talk to him, not me. I know you care, but he needs to hear it from _you_. It won't mean much coming from me."

"Just do it. I'll talk to him later."

His tired look changed to one of frustrated disbelief, but he nodded. "Fine. But one day, you're gonna have to figure out how to do this, how to _talk_ to him, again. He's still your brother."

I nodded, warily working a bothersome hangnail. He turned and headed off down the hall, going into his and Pony's room, pulling the door shut for the night.

Little did I know that this would be the last night we'd all be together under my roof for a long while. The chasm that divided us would explode in size tomorrow, so much so that even the tragic deaths of my parents would pale in comparison - and I'd be the cause. Like dominoes waiting to crash, I was set to make the biggest mistake of my life, and my actions would indirectly cause the deaths of three people.

And I'd live with that mistake for the rest of my days.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

And there you have it. At long last, finished. Sorry if it didn't live up to my usual caliber of work, but I tried. And, before I forget.... Parts of_ The Outsiders_ used without permission. Hope I don't go to jail for it. Susan gets all the glory!


End file.
